


Force Bond One Shots

by kittandchips



Series: Force Bond [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Parent Darth Vader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-31
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 55,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kittandchips/pseuds/kittandchips
Summary: These are some humorous/fluffy Force Bond series one-shots I wrote for a Luke-Vader writers group.
Relationships: Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader
Series: Force Bond [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722820
Comments: 63
Kudos: 190





	1. Dentist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vader faces the challenge of trying to get a nightmare-plagued twelve-year-old Luke to go to the dentist.

The flashing chronometer light caught Darth Vader's attention as he felt the slight tremor of the shuttle's landing. It was a few minutes after 0300, Imperial City time. It had been a long, exhausting, yet successful mission in the Arconeb system. Many Rebel ships had been destroyed, and there was a mine of information waiting to be discovered in the various spies and traitors they had taken prisoner. Interrogation would keep him busy on Coruscant for at least the next month.

At least, he was hoping it would. This was the first time he had returned to the Imperial Palace in the last three weeks.

He walked swiftly down the shuttle's ramp, starting before it had touched ground, and made his way to the line of elevators. He could sense curiosity among the guards, undoubtedly wondering why he was in such a hurry. It was the early hours of the morning, after all, and the Emperor would not be awake.

But unless they were also parents, they could never understand. Three weeks was a long time to leave a twelve-year-old boy to his own devices, and he couldn't help but worry about his son. Even though he trusted the palace staff to ensure the boy was safe, he couldn't expect them to supervise him constantly. Artoo and Threepio did their best, but an adventurous young Skywalker often proved too much for even their formidable skills.

As he rode the elevator up to his personal floor, he couldn't help but wonder if Luke resented his constant absences. He had never complained about it during their regular calls, though, so he had to assume the boy was comfortable with, or, at least, understood the situation. It wasn't as though it could be changed—he doubted very much his master would be willing to grant him parental leave.

He would make it up to his son, anyway. He would arrange some space in his schedule to spend time with the boy. The way things had been lately, he wouldn't be surprised if the royal guards knew more about his son than he did.

Walking carefully as not to wake his son, he made his way down to the corridor towards Luke's room. As he came closer, he realized he needn't have bothered. A thin crack of light could be seen shining through at the edge.

He reached up to open the door, hoping Luke had simply fallen asleep and forgotten to turn out his light. All hope of that faded when he saw his son was very much awake. Sounds of explosions and laser fire reverberated around the room, coming from the holovid projector. Luke was staring at it intently, while fiddling with the controller in his hands. He didn't look away.

"Luke?!"

"Hi!" Luke said, still unable to tear his attention away. "When did you get back?"

"What are you doing?" Vader said, stepping closer.

"Playing the Galactic Bandits hologame," Luke said. "I'm nearly up to the tenth level! No one I know has got this far!"

Vader looked at the corner, where Artoo and Threepio sat, completely powered down. They would be having words about this tomorrow.

"Turn it off at once. You should have been in bed hours ago."

"Just a minute!" Luke said. "I've just got to—"

" _Now_ , Luke," Vader said, becoming annoyed. He looked down at the floor, seeing the carpet was hidden under a layer of candy wrappers and empty fast-food boxes.

"Is _this_ what you have been eating?" he said in disbelief, gesturing at one of them.

His son was still focused on the game, and did not answer him. Vader stretched out a hand, and used the Force to cut off the power. The holograms disappeared into nothingness.

Luke yelled out in annoyance. "NO! I can't believe you did that! I was just about to win!"

"Luke, it is a school night. It is far too late for you to be awake. I can see you have been taking advantage of my absence."

"Another few seconds, and I would have made it!" Luke said, jiggling the power button in a vain attempt to get it working again.

Vader pointed at the game machine, causing it to fly through the air towards him, wires pulling away from the holovid projector on the way.

"Hey!" Luke protested. "Be careful with that!"

Spying another three unopened bags of candy on the desk, Vader lifted them off the ground and gestured at the disposal unit. The candy obediently flew into it.

"They weren't even opened!" Luke protested. "Stars, you are so _mean!_ "

"I am surprised you have any teeth left to eat them," Vader said. "When was the last time you went to the dentist?"

"Who cares?!" Luke said, turning away in a sulk.

"Tomorrow, I want you to clean up this mess."

"Why should I?"

"Luke, I am not going to get into an argument with you at three am," Vader said, trying to stay calm. "Now go to bed."

"Why couldn't you stay away a little longer?" Luke suggested.

Not trusting himself to respond, Vader left the room, ignoring the insults his son was mumbling under his breath. So much for Luke resenting his absences.

* * *

"Luke?"

"Mmmm?" Luke said, sleepily.

"Luke!"

A half-eaten piece of fruit bounced off his head, and Luke sat up in shock. "Ow!"

"What were you _doing_ last night?" Ben asked.

Luke rubbed his eyes, gazing around the cafeteria. Before him, his lunch sat, barely touched. He thought for a moment about his friend's question, while peeling the crust off a sandwich.

"Playing Galactic Bandits," Luke said, his mind beginning to clear. "I nearly got to the tenth level, too."

"You did? Wow! I'm still stuck trying to kill that boss at the end of level seven."

"I was so close," Luke said, taking a careful bite from the corner of the sandwich. "But then my father came in and unplugged it! He confiscated the gamebox, too."

"Parents," Ben said. "They just don't understand hologames."

"Tell me about it."

"When are you getting it back?"

"I don't know," Luke said. "I'll try groveling for it this afternoon."

"Would groveling work with your father?"

"If he's busy enough, it will."

"Well, if not, you can come over and help me finish level seven," Ben suggested.

"Okay," Luke said, throwing his sandwich back on the lunch table.

"Aren't you going to eat that?" Ben asked. "I'll have it."

"Sure," Luke said, passing it over.

"Want some fruit twists?" Ben asked, offering Luke a bag of candy.

Luke held his stomach. "No thanks. I ate three bags of those last night."

Ben nodded and began to devour Luke's sandwich.

"This is great," Ben said, swallowing the last of it. "Why didn't you want it?"

Luke passed over the rest of his sandwiches. "I just don't feel like them."

It wasn't the real reason why he wasn't eating his lunch, but Luke didn't feel like going into the intricate details. He knew what Ben would say, and he didn't want to hear it. Luckily, the signal for the end of lunch sounded over the school comm system, saving him from answering any more questions.

"I'll contact you after school and tell you if I'm coming over or not," Luke said, packing up his belongings.

"Good luck with your father," Ben said.

 _I'll need it_ , Luke thought.

* * *

Luke pressed the door comm, and shuffled from one foot to the other as he waited for a response from within. As seconds of silence ticked by, Luke tried again, and a third time, before finally coming to the conclusion that his father was not in his meditation room.

Artoo whistled beside him.

"Yes, you were right," Luke agreed. "Okay. Do it, Artoo."

Artoo was already plugged into the wall terminal. A few clicks, and the doors slid open.

"Great, now stand guard," Luke said, slipping inside. "This'll need to be quick."

At the sight of the empty room, he let out the breath he'd been holding. Now all he had to do was find that gamebox. It shouldn't be too hard. The actual meditation chamber looked completely sterile; there was no point checking there. He walked around it, until he spied a storage compartment, built into the wall.

"Bingo," Luke mumbled to himself, as he reached up to open it. The door slid into the wall, and Luke squinted into the dark depths. As he stretched up to feel for a light switch, he knocked over a datapad, which fell underneath the lower shelf. Then a round red light glowed from the space where the datapad had landed, followed by the noise of a machine powering up.

Luke stepped back, trying to figure out what bizarre contraption this was. It began to tick, rising up off the floor. It was a hovering droid, spherical in shape.

"Oh, this is all I need," Luke said. "Droid, turn off! Go back where you belong!"

It didn't respond to his commands, it simply began to move toward him, glowing eerily. Luke took another step back as it came closer. His mouth dropped open when he finally got a good look at it ... it had a syringe on the side, and two nasty looking pincers on top.

"Just a medical droid!" Luke told himself.

A spark of electricity jumped between the two front pincers and another side implement extended.

"Go away!" Luke shouted, moving around it. This thing was starting to scare him.

It followed his movement, red sensor eye blinking every so often.

Panic was just setting in, when the main doors slid open, causing Luke to whirl around in shock. His father stood, silhouetted in the doorway.

"Um ... hi!" Luke said, trying to look innocent. He would need to have words with Artoo about what 'standing guard' actually meant, because clearly he had no idea.

The spherical droid rushed forward, making a dive at him. Luke threw himself to the ground, and heard the droid pass over the top, missing him by a hair's width.

His father walked over, holding up a hand. The droid powered down and sunk slowly to the ground, while Luke rolled over into a sitting position. His father guided the droid back into the cupboard and shut the door, before turning and offering Luke a hand to help him back up.

Luke accepted it. "What _was_ that thing?!"

"A droid programmed to torture intruders who enter my private room without permission."

"Oh, very funny," Luke said, rubbing his shoulder where he'd fallen against the floor.

His father folded his arms together. "Why are you in here, Luke?"

"I was looking for you!" Luke insisted.

His father didn't reply; he simply stared.

Luke crumpled under the clearly disbelieving gaze and decided to push on with the groveling. "I just wanted to apologize for last night. I didn't mean all those things I said ... I was just tired."

"I see."

"I was glad to see you! Really!"

"And I was relieved to see you hadn't destroyed anything or injured yourself in my absence," his father said, sweeping past Luke, and making his way up to the meditation chamber.

"Uh ... Father?"

"Yes, Son?"

"Can I have my gamebox back?"

"No."

"Aw, come on. Pleeeeeease?" Luke whined.

"Did you clean up your room?"

"Yes!" Luke insisted. "Well, mostly," he mumbled.

"Then I will give it back to you, on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You don't take advantage of my absence to stay up all hours of the night and eat junk instead of meals."

"I don't usually do that!" Luke insisted. "You just caught me at a bad moment."

His father gestured beside him, and Luke glanced down, seeing Artoo was rolling up.

"Artoo tells me you argued with him so much about your diet that he ran out of power, and you deactivated Threepio whenever he reminded you about going to bed."

"That's a complete exaggeration!" Luke said, frowning at Artoo. "Besides, it wasn't my fault that you ran out of power."

Artoo merely whistled.

"Son, I don't like having to leave you for such long periods of time, but it cannot be helped. I need to trust you to be mature in my absence. I would hate to have to resort to getting you a babysitter."

Luke held up his hands in shock. "Okay, okay, you've made your point. You can trust me, I swear!"

"Good."

"Are you back here for a while?" Luke asked, watching as his father retrieved his gamebox and walked down to give it to him.

"Yes. There were many prisoners taken on my last mission and I have to process them."

"We should do something together," Luke said, grinning as he recovered the gamebox from his father. "You said you'd teach me more about droid repair."

"I will see when I have some time."

"Great," Luke said, moving towards the door, clutching the gamebox tightly in excitement. Artoo rolled along after him.

"And Luke?"

Luke turned back.

"Stay away from that closet. Next time, you may find yourself electrocuted and injected with truth serum."

"Sure," Luke said, wondering whether his father was serious or not. You never could tell with him.

* * *

Three hours later, Luke was so excited, he could hardly calm down enough to enter Ben's comlink frequency.

"Guess what?!" he said, when his friend answered.

"You got to level ten?" Ben asked.

"Better! I finished it!"

"Really? Do you kill that mutant rancor at the end?"

"Yes. That's the final boss. There are eleven levels, then the last bit, where you kill him. Did you manage to get to level eight?"

"No," Ben said. "I haven't been playing it. I've been doing the galactic geography homework."

Luke rolled his eyes. Trust his friend to be doing homework before a weekend.

"I'll come over tomorrow and help you," Luke said.

Ben nodded. "By the way—are you going to be home next weekend?"

"Of course," Luke said. "Why?"

"What do you mean, 'why'? It's the blade racing final!"

"Oh yeah! I programmed it into my calendar, too. I guess I've been distracted with this game."

"I'll bring the food," Ben said. "I've still got candy left over from last weekend."

"You want to watch it here?" Luke said, surprised.

"You've got the biggest holovid. And that pay channel where they show it live."

"You realize my father will be here, don't you?"

"Luke, this is the blade racing final. It's worth facing your father for."

Luke grinned. "You must be _really_ excited about this."

"You bet. Listen, I have to go eat dinner."

"Okay," Luke said. "I'll come over tomorrow to help you finish level seven."

Luke cut the call and sat back on his bed. Dinner ... he really should start thinking about that himself. It was half an hour past his usual eating time, and he was starving. Not surprising, after no breakfast and only a few bites of lunch.

But, hungry as he was, he still didn't want to eat. Although if he didn't order anything, there was always a chance it might get back to his father, and he couldn't risk that. Luke leaned forward and pressed the comlink button for the kitchen droids. One of them appeared immediately.

"Greetings, Master Luke. May I take your order?"

The menu list appeared down the side of the screen, but Luke ignored it.

"Can you just bring me some ice cream? And ... uh ... some mashed up vegetables? And when I say mashed, I mean really, _really_ mashed."

"What kind of drink would you like with that, sir?"

"Water. In a big glass ... and can you make sure it's cold?"

"Yes, sir. That will be five minutes."

Luke sat back to wait, and began flicking through the thousands of Holonet channels. He paused on the news channel when he heard his father's name mentioned.

_'...Lord Vader was in command of the operation. Protestors caused disruption and mayhem on the Arconeb shipping route this afternoon.'_

The shot changed from the anchor to a hologram of the protestors. Luke was about to change to a different channel, when his eye fell on one of the protestor's signs.

' _Vader, stop torturing the innocent!'_

Luke frowned to himself. Why did people have to accuse his father of things like that? The picture changed back to the anchor droid, and the voiceover continued.

_'The Imperial navy were quick to deal with the disruption and peace has returned to the region.'_

Luke turned it off when his door-comm beeped, and he stood up to collect his dinner. Just as he had ordered, there was a plate holding a pulp he could only assume were finely mashed vegetables, and a bowl with green ice cream.

He gingerly scooped up a mouthful of the vegetables, and tried to swallow it. A second later, he screwed up his face in pain. The problem was still there, and, if anything, it was twice as bad as yesterday.

He sighed, putting the food aside. There was no way he was going to get through this meal without some painkillers.

It had all started a few months ago, when he had noticed a slight pain in a back molar. It had come and gone for a few weeks before settling into a dull ache. He had learned to eat around it and purposely chosen foods not to exacerbate it, all while hoping it would eventually go away. Instead, it had only grown worse.

Luke pushed the food around the plate, waiting for the pain to die down enough so he could attempt another mouthful. This was going to take a while, but he had plenty of time. So much time, he might as well make a start on his weekend homework. Luke reached down to retrieve his school datapads, surprised at how much of it there appeared to be. He'd been so addicted to the game, he hadn't had much time to work on it.

After almost an hour had passed, in which he alternated attempting to eat and doing homework, his door-comm interrupted him, once again. Luke quickly dragged a blanket over what was left of his dinner, just as his father entered. Luke frowned—his father never did bother to wait.

"You're doing homework," his father observed. "You must have sensed me coming."

"I did not," Luke said, annoyed. "I've been doing this all evening."

"What happened to that game you were so addicted to?"

"I finished it," Luke said, sitting up.

"I see." His father stepped closer, clearly intending to sit down. Just before doing so, he paused, and lifted up the corner of the blanket. Underneath was the tray of food.

Luke quickly moved to shift it out of the way, but he was too late to avoid questions.

"Do you normally keep food in your bed?" his father asked, sounding puzzled.

"Uh ... I was just trying to keep it warm."

It sounded ridiculous as soon as the words left his mouth, but his father let it go.

"It is late for you to be eating," he remarked.

"I saw something about you on the news earlier," Luke said, putting the food on the desk. He needed to change the subject.

"About the prisoners captured on Arconeb?"

"Yes, I think so. Why are they protesting?"

"Because they are misguided," his father replied.

"Father," Luke said, after a few seconds silence, "would you ever torture anybody?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious."

"Because of the droid you found?"

Luke shrugged.

"Spies and traitors will not willingly give up information. Harsh methods are required, sometimes."

Luke felt slightly sick, imagining just what his father meant by 'harsh methods'. He'd definitely be throwing away the rest of his dinner when his father left.

"You will understand when you're older," his father continued. "Now, there is something I forgot to mention to you, earlier. I arranged for you to see a dentist, tomorrow afternoon."

Luke's mouth fell open. "Did you just say _dentist?!_ "

"Is there a problem?" his father asked, clearly surprised at his reaction.

Luke stared at his father, wondering if, by some cruel twist of fate, his father had discovered his problem.

"Why do I have to see a dentist?!" Luke asked, desperately. "There's nothing wrong with my teeth!"

"When was the last time you had them checked?"

"Just a few months ago," Luke insisted.

"I don't recall."

"You weren't here."

"You are making this up," his father said, pointing at him. "Your doctor told me there is no record of you having seen one since you left Tatooine. That is assuming you even saw one there. There is a dentist located near the medcentre in the senate office building, and he recommended I make an appointment for you as soon as possible."

Luke set his jaw, stubbornly. There was no way, in a million, billion years, he was going to the dentist. The actual last time he'd been was when Aunt Beru had forced him to go to one in Anchorhead, and the memories of that event were bad enough to put him off going for life. There had to be some way he could talk his father out of this.

"I hate the dentist!" Luke insisted.

"Sometimes, we have to let go of our personal desires and do the things we hate. For instance, I hate having to attend policy planning meetings with the Grand Vizier, like I have to do in five minutes."

"That isn't the same thing," Luke said, sighing.

"Your appointment is at 14-hundred," his father said, walking towards the door. "Do not forget. I will have an assistant remind you."

Luke didn't reply.

* * *

"Please, take a seat, sir," the receptionist droid said, in a clear, soothing tone. "The dentist will be right with you."

"Thanks," Luke said, his voice coming out as a parched whisper.

He sat down on the hard waiting room bench and looked around nervously. The walls were all sterile white, and there were no magazines to read. There was nothing to do but sit here, contemplating the terrible fate that awaited.

Out of nowhere, a shadow fell across him.

"Hello, Luke."

Luke turned to the voice, looking up slowly, dreading what he would see. The actual sight only served to increase his fear—a gloomy figure, hidden entirely behind a pitch-black robe. He tried to focus on the face, but all he could see were dark shadows. In the depths of the hood, he could just make out some blood-shot, glowing eyes.

"W-who ... are you?" Luke asked.

"I'm your dentist, Luke."

His voice was low and raspy.

" _D_ - _dentist_?"

"Follow me."

Luke slowly got to his feet, surprised to find his legs could actually support him. He walked behind the dark figure as he was led down a long, narrow corridor. The floor was hard, and their footsteps echoed around them.

As they passed one of the doors, Luke jumped at the sound of an ear-shaking scream from within.

His guide didn't bother to explain the noise; he simply paused in front of his own surgery door.

"In here."

Luke paused as he read the name on the door. "Darth ... Dentist?"

"Yes. Go on in."

Luke lifted his hand and pressed the button to open the doors. He stepped back in shock as a chilling gray fog floated out. Once that had cleared, he peered into the black room. It was in sharp contrast to the sterile white corridor.

He stumbled forward as Darth Dentist gave him a push from behind. His touch was cold; it caused his whole body to shudder.

Behind him, the doors banged closed, and Luke heard the sound of a lock.

"Just sit down in the chair, Luke. I'll be right with you."

Luke looked around the murky room, before spotting a steely gray dentist's chair.

"Okay," Luke whispered, trying to keep calm. He climbed into the chair slowly. It was very cold. Then restraining binders snapped out of the chair, locking around his wrists, ankles, and neck.

"Ah!" Luke yelled, struggling desperately. "No!"

Darth Dentist loomed out of the shadows, holding electro-pliers in one hand, and a hydro-spanner in the other. "This isn't going to hurt a bit," he said.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Luke yelled.

He sat up, heart pounding in his chest and sweat coating his forehead. It took several seconds before he stopped gasping for breath and relaxed enough to look at his bedside chronometer.

Five am.

He gazed around his room, half expecting to see Darth Dentist still waiting in the shadows.

As he became calmer, he climbed out of bed and went into his refresher, intending to get a glass of water. As he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he was shocked to see how pale he looked.

Definitely one of the worst nightmares he'd ever had.

"There is no way I'm going to that appointment," Luke said to the mirror.

* * *

After lunch, Luke went to Ben's apartment, deciding that helping his friend finish Galactic Bandits would be a good way to take his mind off the nightmare.

As he lay on Ben's floor, watching his friend trying to defeat a holographic monster, he couldn't help but notice it was getting closer and closer to his appointment time. The sound of his comlink beeping caused him to jump in fright.

"Are you going to answer that?" Ben asked, after it had already beeped six times.

Luke groaned and reluctantly clicked it on. _Please don't let it be my father,_ he begged

When Lev's image appeared, Luke sighed with relief. "Hi, Lev."

"Luke. Your father told me to remind you to go to your dentist appointment. Do you need a ride over to the senate, or are you already there?"

"I'm just in the waiting room right now," Luke said, quickly.

Ben glanced over in his direction, curious.

"Great. Good luck."

"Thanks," Luke said, switching off the comlink.

"You have a dentist appointment?" Ben asked.

"Yes, but I'm not going."

"Why not?"

"I hate the dentist."

"Oh, so do I," Ben said. "I hate the way they keep saying 'open wider, open wider', but your mouth can't go any wider."

"Don't talk about it," Luke said. "Have you killed it yet?"

"No," Ben said, "I'm hiding behind the rock."

"Run around in circles," Luke said. "That way it won't be able to target you."

Ben followed his advice, while Luke leaned forward to study his friend's technique.

"It's nearly dead," Luke said, watching the monster's life bar drain away.

"Just ... one more ... thermal detonator ... there! Finally!"

As they waited for the next level to load, Ben glanced at the chronometer.

"What are you going to do if the dentist contacts the palace, wanting to know why you missed the appointment?"

"Do you think they'll do that?" Luke asked, surprised.

"Mine always does. They'll comm at the end of the day, wanting to reschedule. Sometimes, they'll even try and charge you a fee for missing an appointment and not telling them in advance."

"Stop it, you're scaring me."

"Hey, just being logical. Maybe you should go. If you hurry, you could still get there by—"

"I'm not going!"

Ben didn't mention it again.

* * *

Luke left it until late to return to the palace, hoping Lev would have finished his shift and gone home. No such luck. He had barely made it to the elevators when Lev appeared out of nowhere, carrying a stack of datapads.

"Hi, just going up to my room," Luke said, quickly entering the elevator.

Lev joined him. "The dentist's office called to say you'd missed your appointment."

Luke shrugged, pressing the floor button.

"What happened? When I called you, you said you were in the waiting room."

"Well, I wasn't exactly _there_ ," Luke said. "More on my way there. Then I got side-tracked. Long story."

"Uh huh," Lev said slowly, not sounding entirely convinced. "Well, I arranged another appointment for tomorrow morning."

"You _what_?" Luke said, glancing over. "Forget it! I'm not going!"

Lev just smiled. "Do I detect some dentist-phobia?"

"I'm not going," Luke repeated, stubbornly.

"If you don't want to go, you'll have to argue with your father. Which I wouldn't advise. He wasn't happy when he heard you missed the one this afternoon and ordered me to personally accompany you to the one tomorrow morning."

"Where is he now?" Luke asked.

"Over at the detention center. He won't be back until late."

Luke sighed. Too late to argue with him about the appointment, he'd wager. Even if not, he doubted his father would change his mind.

"Listen, don't worry about it," Lev continued. "I've been to this dentist before, and it was fine. Very professional. You'll be in and out before you know it."

"But what if there's something wrong?" Luke asked, one hand straying towards his cheek. "Like they need to remove a tooth?"

"Have you got a toothache?"

"No," Luke insisted, letting his hand drop. "My teeth are fine."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. It won't hurt a bit."

Luke shuddered. He'd heard those words before.

"What time is the appointment?" Luke asked.

"11-hundred. I'll see you then."

"Okay," Luke said, miserably. "I guess there's no choice."

"It'll be fine," Lev repeated, just as the elevator doors slid open. "I promise."

Luke sighed, long and loud as he stepped out of the elevator. He wanted to do nothing else but crawl into bed.

* * *

"Hello, Luke."

He was back. Back in Darth Dentist's surgery. The steely gray chair sat waiting.

"Go away!" Luke yelled. "You're just a dream!"

"No, Luke, I'm as real as you are. You left last time. Why did you leave? We were just starting to have fun!"

Luke tried to run, but his feet wouldn't move.

"Sit in the chair, Luke!"

Luke, despite his best efforts, found himself drifting towards the chair. Just like last time, cold metal binders snapped around him, holding him tight to the chair.

A faint humming noise in the background caused him to stop fighting and he strained to listen. Above him, two red blinking lights appeared. As they came into focus, he recognized two shiny torture droids, just like he had seen in his father's meditation room.

"NO!" Luke yelled.

"Just relax, Luke, they're only my assistants."

Beside him, he felt Darth Dentist come closer. "Open up!"

Luke shook his head, keeping his mouth tightly closed.

"Come on, Luke."

Two slimy gray hands gripped his face, forcing his jaw open.

Luke heard one of the interrogator droids hover closer, and he fought desperately.

"Hmm. Looks like one of these teeth is rotten. You know I'm going to have to cut it out, don't you?"

He let go, and Luke shifted his face away. "Leave me alone!"

"It's going to hurt, but sometimes we have to do things that hurt, right Luke?"

"Go away!" Luke yelled.

"Besides, I need it for my collection."

Darth Dentist pulled open a nearby cupboard. Inside, Luke could see rows and rows of glass jars. They contained teeth of all shapes and sizes, bobbing up and down in murky water. He gasped.

As the dentist began to walk towards him again, Luke struggled desperately.

"No, you can't have it!"

The interrogator droids buzzed closer and one extended its syringe.

"Sedate him."

"Ah! NO!"

A steady _beep-beep beep-beep_ began to echo around them. It caused Darth Dentist to pause.

"What's the noise?!" Luke gasped.

"Your alarm. It's time for you to wake up, Luke, and get ready for your appointment."

"NO!"

The nightmare faded, and Luke sat up, looking around.

Ten am. He had one hour to get out of here, before he was going to be forced into ... into ... Luke didn't even want to think about it.

* * *

Within half an hour, Luke crept up to his door and looked carefully around the corner. No one in sight. This was his chance.

He nearly made it, too. The elevator took a moment to arrive, and he stepped into it while looking back over his shoulder. Then he heard the sound of artificial breathing. A second later, he found himself bumping into his father, who was already in the elevator.

"Ah!" Luke jumped back, but his father held him steady and then pressed the button for the main entrance floor.

"I believe you have a dentist appointment."

"Uh ... I know!" Luke said, looking up. "I was just going down to find Lev. He's flying me over."

"The lieutenant is waiting on the entrance floor."

"He doesn't need to go with me," Luke insisted.

"Yes, he does."

Luke sulked as they began to ride down, and his father didn't miss it.

"Luke, you are too old for this. It is just a dentist appointment."

Luke sighed. Maybe his father was right. He should stop acting like a wimp and just face it. After all, it couldn't really be as bad as his nightmare, could it? There were only two Sith Lords that he knew about, and neither of them was a qualified dentist. As far as he knew.

Lev was waiting outside the elevators, looking annoyingly relaxed.

"I will be at the palace detention center," Luke heard his father tell Lev. "If there are any problems, contact me immediately."

"Yes, sir."

He then turned to Luke and waved a finger in his direction. "Son, behave yourself."

Luke frowned at the patronizing tone.

His father then strode off towards an exit corridor, leaving him and Lev alone.

"We better get going," Lev said, guiding Luke towards the stairs down to the administration floor. There was a speeder bay along the corridor from Lev's office, filled with boring black speeders branded with the Imperial logo.

"It's not eleven yet," Luke said, hoping to stall.

"I know, but we'll want to get there before eleven. Maybe the last patient finished early, then we can be in and out quicker."

As they entered the hangar, Luke tried another angle. "Are you sure you want to fly one of these boring speeders? Why don't we take one of the modified open top models in my father's hangar?"

"Let's just stick to the boring ones today," Lev said, opening the passenger side door for Luke. "Hop in, please."

Luke took his time getting in, but much too soon, they were rising into the air and on their way. This was it. No turning back now. His stomach churned as they joined the traffic heading to the Senate, and Luke shivered, feeling clammy.

"I think I'm going to throw up," Luke said, when they began to drop down towards a landing pad. Lev was a very steady pilot, but the slightest jolt made Luke feel queasy.

"You do look very off colour," Lev said, glancing over. "What did you eat this morning?"

"Nothing," Luke said.

"That explains it. You should have had breakfast."

When they came into land, the queasiness turned into full on nausea.

"I think I really am going to be sick," Luke said, struggling to open the door.

Lev climbed out and walked around to Luke's side to unlock it. "Cheer up, Luke. It won't be so bad."

"How would you know?" Luke said, finally staggering out onto the landing pad.

"Because you look like you're about to go before a firing squad. It's just a dentist appointment."

Luke sighed. "Maybe you're right."

"I _am_ right."

As they walked into the building and down the corridor, Luke began to sweat. It reminded him of his dream—all sterile and white. _Come on,_ he told himself, _you can do this._

"When was the last time _you_ went to the dentist?" Luke asked, trying to take his mind off the appointment.

"Three months ago," Lev said. "All navy personnel get free dental care. Free medical insurance, too. They even pay for your funeral."

"You mean people actually _pay_ to go to the dentist?!" Luke said. "I'd pay not to go. And do you have to talk about funerals?"

"Here's the place," Lev said, stopping outside two glass doors with a large sign. The word 'dentist' was much larger than it needed to be.

Luke hung back, before following Lev in. Immediately, he got a whiff of the clean, sterile dentist smell. _Uh oh_.

He glanced at Lev, who was talking to the droid at reception.

Now was his chance. He turned and sprinted back through the doors.

* * *

Vader knew as soon as his comlink beeped that it would be about Luke. He glanced at a chrono. Eleven-thirty. Luke should have finished his appointment by now. He picked up the device and switched it on. He only needed to look at the lieutenant's face to know that Luke had not got past the waiting room.

"My deepest apologies for interrupting you, sir."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, sir. He ran off just as we reached the reception desk. I've been looking everywhere, and I have the senate guards on alert, but there's no sign of him."

"There is no point wasting your time trying to find him now. He could be anywhere. Arrange another dentist appointment for tomorrow, and I will deal with him when he returns home."

"Yes, sir."

Vader switched off the comlink and slammed it down against the table. His son had to be the most stubborn young man in the entire galaxy.

* * *

"No, he hasn't called me either," Ben said. "I don't know where he is."

"Ben, if he does happen to stop by, can you tell him to come home immediately, please?" Lev said. "We're all getting worried about him."

"Sure thing," Ben said. He then disconnected the call, and turned to look at Luke, who was sitting on his bed.

Luke grinned. "Thanks for covering."

Ben just stared for a moment, and then said, "All this over a _dentist appointment_?"

"You wouldn't say that if you knew how I felt."

"So when are you going home?" Ben asked, glancing at the chrono. It was getting late.

"I'm not," Luke said.

"No way," Ben said, standing up. "No way are you hiding out here. Your father could send out the army if he wanted. My Dad won't be happy if this apartment gets bombed because you don't want to go to the dentist."

Luke sighed, knowing Ben was right. "Okay. I'm leaving." Luke fidgeted for a moment. "In an hour," he added.

"Luke!"

"All right, all right." Luke sighed.

* * *

Vader was pacing in a conference room, worrying about his son. It wasn't like him to stay away this long. Perhaps he had become lost, or injured, or worse ... perhaps he had been abducted. Vader clenched a fist, trying to convince himself to calm down and stop being ridiculous. His son was likely hiding at one of his friend's homes, hoping to sneak back here when he thought his father wouldn't catch him.

Vader paced up and down for another three cycles, before turning and heading for the door. This had gone on long enough—he was taking a speeder and going out to find his son.

As he stepped out of the conference room, he was met with a welcome sight. Luke was coming the other way. He skidded to a halt in front of him and attempted to dodge past. Vader reached out with the Force to stop him, and looked him up and down briefly, making sure he was not injured. Once satisfied, he met his son's gaze.

"How nice of you to drop by, Son," he said, dryly.

Luke only looked anxious in response. He then ran quickly to his bedroom and disappeared inside.

Vader looked after him, trying to make sense of his own conflicted feelings. Part of him was angry; he wanted to shake Luke and tell him to never worry him like that again. The other half was concerned that his son would rather hide all day than go to the dentist. Something was seriously wrong.

A Sith Lord should probably go with the reaction that stemmed from his anger, but a good father would try and get to the source of this issue.

Vader let out a weary breath as he walked towards Luke's bedroom—Sith Lords were never meant to be parents.

He opened the door, and found Luke sitting on his bed.

"Where have you been?" Vader asked, stepping forward to let the door close behind him.

"Hiding out until you had a chance to cool down," Luke said, off-handedly.

Vader was about to reply angrily, when he paused, thinking about it. "Probably a wise decision," he admitted.

He felt Luke's relief at his remark, but the smile didn't quite reach his son's mouth.

Vader moved over to sit next to him, and Luke shifted aside to make room.

"Why did you run off this morning?" Vader asked.

Luke fidgeted for a while, looking down at his hands.

"I just couldn't go through with it," he said, eventually. His voice sounded shaky. It was clear that even the memory of it was terrifying him.

Vader considered carefully what to say. His son's fear was serious, so he had to treat this seriously, despite the temptation to simply ridicule it and brush it aside. "Luke, running and hiding from the things you are afraid of only makes the fear worse. And fear is far more destructive than anything life may have in store for you. Face what you are afraid of—you will feel far better about yourself if you do."

Luke didn't reply; he appeared to be considering his father's words.

"I have arranged yet another appointment for you, tomorrow morning," Vader said, deciding that letting Luke down quickly was the best route.

"Tomorrow morning?!" Luke said, turning to face his father. "But I've got school!"

"I don't care if you have an appointment with the Emperor himself—you are going to the dentist tomorrow, Luke."

Luke frowned.

"I will be accompanying you, personally," Vader added.

"Oh, stars, NOOOOOOOOO!" Luke said, covering his face.

Vader had expected this reaction. "I am aware you are embarrassed to be seen in public with me, but you have no one to blame for this but yourself."

"It's not you I'm embarrassed about," Luke explained. "It's the way people stare and point."

"There will be very few people around," Vader said. "Your appointment is early. 0800, in fact. I expect you to be ready to leave half an hour beforehand."

Luke stared at his father, his wide-eyed expression communicating clearly his feelings about being made to get up early.

"You can be unbelievably cruel at times, Father," Luke said, finally.

"All in a days work," Vader said, standing up to leave.

* * *

Luke looked down at his wrists. They were securely bound to the steely gray platform he was resting on. That could only mean one thing ...

"Back again, Luke?"

Luke flinched at the sound of the overly familiar, raspy voice.

"Go away!"

"I can't go away. This is my surgery."

The two interrogator droids came into sight above Luke, causing him to struggle.

"Open wide, Luke."

"No!"

"Luke, you know we have to take that tooth out. It will only get worse if we don't."

"It's fine!" Luke insisted.

"Just relax while I get my trusty tooth-remover."

Luke's heart nearly stopped when he heard the sound of a lightsaber switching on. The red blade waved into view above him.

"Open up! This will be over before you know it!"

"AHHHHHH!"

Luke felt someone shaking him. He opened his eyes and found himself staring up into his father's mask.

"Father," Luke said, sitting up and wiping the sweat from his forehead, "I can't go!"

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes," his father said. "Hurry up and get dressed."

"Fifteen minutes?!"

"Yes. I will be waiting by the elevator."

His father left the room, leaving Luke to drag himself out of bed. As he made his way into the refresher, he wondered what his father would do if he simply locked himself in here, and refused to come out.

Slicing down the door sounded like a likely scenario.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Vader was getting impatient. Just as he was considering sending a few stormtroopers to retrieve his son, Luke came shuffling down the hallway, looking like he was going to his death.

"Hurry up," Vader said, impatient.

"I'm moving as fast as I can!"

"You are moving as fast as an Imperial walker with a broken leg." Vader stretched out a hand and used the Force to drag Luke forward.

"All right, I'll hurry!" Luke said, trying to resist the grip. "Stop it!"

When Luke eventually made it to the elevator, they rode down to the hangar-bay floor in silence. Vader glanced at his son, testing his mood. He didn't seem to be planning to make a break for it, but you could never be entirely sure with Luke. He'd need to be vigilant.

"Can I choose which speeder we take?" Luke asked, suddenly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I said so."

There was a time in his life where he couldn't have imagined ever using that phrase. Probably when his former self was Luke's age, and Obi-Wan had used it on him. It was depressing how quickly parenthood had turned him into the cliche of a middle-aged father. He wasn't even middle-aged.

"There will be no stalling," he said, deciding to offer more of an explanation. "And if you attempt to escape, I will drag you back and handcuff you to me."

"You don't even have any binders," Luke said, rolling his eyes.

"How would you know, young one?"

His son looked at him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if he was serious. Then he looked away, putting his hands in his pockets.

Vader watched him for a few more seconds, letting the threat hang in the air, before they were interrupted by the doors sliding open.

Luke was silent as they exited the elevator and remained that way as he climbed into the passenger side of the nearest speeder. Vader ensured the door on Luke's side was locked, before walking around to get in the pilot's seat.

Once they were in the air and heading for the senate office building, Vader did another quick test of Luke's mood. On the outside, he appeared to be sulking, but Vader could sense past all that. His son was genuinely frightened.

Perhaps he should attempt to distract him.

"So how else did you occupy yourself while I was away? Besides staying up late and playing mindless games."

Luke made a vague sound, which was a cross between a mumble and a grunt.

"Did you learn anything interesting at school?" Vader prompted. Luke's doctor had suggested he should ask such dull questions to 'keep the lines of communication open', whatever that meant.

Luke made another vague sound.

"Am I supposed to understand that, Luke?"

"I don't remember," Luke mumbled.

Vader let out a weary breath as he brought the speeder down to land. He sometimes wondered why he even tried. Luke was struggling to open his door, obviously unaware that he had locked it. He walked around to let him out, expecting some more protests, but his son remained in a silent sulk until they had entered the building.

"Is there a refresher around here?" Luke asked, suddenly.

Vader looked down at him. "Why didn't you go before we left?"

"Because you were so busy hurrying me I didn't have a chance!"

Vader looked at a wall chrono—they certainly had time.

"There will be one inside, somewhere," Vader said. He looked around, before spotting a building directory outside a nearby elevator. He briefly studied it, before moving on. "This way," he said.

Luke walked behind him, until they reached the refresher.

"I will wait out here," Vader said.

"Okay," Luke said, going through the door.

Vader tapped his fingers together, and placed himself in front of a nearby window, studying the view of a hundred thousand ships flying between twice as many buildings.

* * *

After entering the refresher, Luke took a quick glance around. Pretty standard ... three stalls, three basins ... and a _second exit_. That's what he'd been counting on.

Luke hurried over—this was his chance. He'd be out of here before his father realized he hadn't come back.

He ran for the doors, taking a sharp right turn as he emerged into the corridor. He had barely moved two steps before he found himself smacking head first into his father's chest.

His father reached out to grab him, preventing him from bouncing back into the wall.

"Ow!" Luke said, rubbing his head. "That hurt!"

His father kept a firm hold on him and began to half-drag him down the corridor.

"Wait a second," Luke said, still rubbing his head. "How did you ... you were on the other side!"

"Good observation, Son."

"Okay, I know you can do some pretty amazing things but walking through walls isn't one of them!"

"I walked around through the corridor."

"But how did you know I was going to ...?"

"Intuition."

They turned a corner, and Luke saw the dentist's surgery up ahead. His stomach began to churn.

"I recall trying the same thing, once," his father continued.

Luke looked up at him in surprise. "What were _you_ trying to avoid?"

"An inoculation of one sort or another. Needless to say, it did not work." Vader looked down at Luke. "Obi-Wan was also somewhat intuitive."

Luke couldn't help but smile. His father continued to watch him.

"That is the first smile I've seen from you since I first mentioned the dentist," he remarked.

Luke shrugged. They were standing outside the reception area now.

"You go first," Luke said, gesturing.

"No, _you_ go first. This is your appointment."

Luke hung back, until his father forced him through the doors. Luke immediately got a whiff of the sterile, dentist smell and felt a wave of nausea. He heard his father tell the receptionist droid who he was, and he began to sweat.

"If you'll just take a seat in the waiting room, the dentist will be with you shortly," the droid said.

His father pushed him gently towards the waiting room, and Luke reluctantly moved forward.

"That smell is making me sick," Luke said, faintly.

"Ignore it."

As they entered the waiting room, Luke saw they were not the only people there. A boy who looked about six or seven sat, reading a picture book. He looked up as they entered, staring at them curiously.

Luke sat on a bench, and slouched down, folding his arms. His father stood beside him.

Presently, the boy stood up, and shuffled down the row of chairs until he was sitting opposite.

"What are you staring at?!" Luke asked, irritably.

"Is he really Lord Vader?" he asked, sounding awed.

"Yeah, he is," Luke said. "And if you stare at us too long, he'll make your eyes fall out."

"Luke!" his father said, annoyed. "Act your age."

"He started it!" Luke protested.

"Look what I got!" the boy said, holding up a bright yellow sticker, with a smiley face. "The dentist said my teeth were perfect!"

Luke was about to reply, when the boy jumped up and ran for the door, at the sound of someone calling.

"That's my mom," the boy said. He waved at Luke as he left, grinning.

Luke sighed and reluctantly waved back. Afterwards, there was only silence, apart from his father's constant breathing. He fingered one of the magazines, but decided against reading one. They all looked boring, anyway. The walls were filled with projected holos with messages about how to look after your teeth, which apparently meant not eating anything that actually tasted good and spending half your life cleaning them.

"Why do we have to wait so long?" Luke asked, wiping the sweat from his palms.

"First you complain about going," his father said. "Now you complain about waiting."

"Waiting makes it worse," Luke said.

"Makes what worse?"

Luke didn't reply.

"It will be over soon," his father said, finally. "Afterwards, I have business at the detention centre, so I can drop you off at school on the way," he added.

Luke looked up at his father, his mouth falling open in surprise. " _School?!_ Can't I have the day off?"

His father let out a weary breath. "Luke, if I have learned anything this week, it is this: if I let you do what you wanted, you would be uneducated, malnourished and missing half your teeth."

"I just want one day off!"

"No."

"Aw, pleeeease!" Luke tried.

His father turned to stare at him. "Luke, I have a reputation for being completely heartless. Do you honestly imagine that _whining_ will work with me?"

"No harm in trying!" Luke said.

"That is debatable," his father said, pointing at him.

A minute later, Luke heard footsteps and watched the doorway. He could hear someone talking with the receptionist droid. This wasn't looking good.

Luke wondered if his father would be fast enough to stop him if he made a run for it right now.

"Don't even _think_ about it," his father said.

"Think about what?" Luke asked, innocently.

"What you were just thinking about."

"I can't help what I think about!"

"Yes, you can."

"No, I can't! Besides, you shouldn't be reading my mind, anyway! That's not fair!"

"Is there a law which states that I must be fair?"

"There should be!"

"You write a draft proposal and discuss it with the Emperor, then."

"Maybe I'll do just that!" Luke said. "And while I'm at it, I'll suggest he outlaw all dentists! Psychotic, pain-inducing—"

"Excuse me, Gentlemen."

Both of them turned towards the door. Apparently, the dentist had been waiting there while they argued.

Luke took her in immediately. About mid-thirties, short, spiky yellow hair, warm-brown skin ... she looked nothing like Darth Dentist, but then, that clean white lab coat made her look like the weapons research scientists who sometimes came to visit his father. She could still be dangerous.

She looked right at him. "Luke Skywalker?"

Luke nodded. His throat was too tight for him to form a coherent reply.

"I'm Doctor Ferner. I'm ready to see you now."

Luke felt his father's hand grip him by the collar and haul him to his feet. "Go on. I will wait here."

Luke hesitated and shuffled a few steps forward. His heart was beating so loud he was sure the dentist must be able to hear it. He glanced back at his father, before taking another reluctant step. So, this is what it felt like to walk towards your doom ...

Doctor Ferner had folded her arms and was leaning against the doorframe as Luke made his slow approach. She glanced at her wrist-chrono after a while, and then yawned. Finally, she seemed to lose her patience.

"Perhaps Luke would feel more comfortable if you accompanied him, sir," she said to his father.

Luke looked back at his father, hopefully.

* * *

"I regret it took three appointments to get Luke here," Vader said to Doctor Ferner, as the woman began looking through the computer for Luke's file.

"Oh, we're used to it," she said, waving a hand, dismissively. "I have one patient ... we always double book her appointments, because she only shows about one in every six of them. It's like a lottery."

Vader glanced at Luke, who was sitting nervously on the edge of the dentist chair. The dental assistant, a cheerful looking green droid which played soothing music, was busy putting a napkin around his neck, but he was squirming away so much it was finding it a challenge.

"I remember when I first told my parents I was going to dental school," she continued. "They were shocked. 'Why would you want to do that? Everyone will be afraid of you!'"

 _I know the feeling_ , Vader thought.

"How long has it been since you last saw a dentist, Luke?" she asked, looking over in Luke's direction.

Luke's voice was barely audible. "I don't know."

"Three years? Five?"

"Two, I think."

"Okay. And do you have any allergies, or any special medical conditions?"

"I have a prosthetic right hand," Luke said.

The dentist began to enter something into the file.

"That won't cause a problem, will it?" Luke asked, sounding hopeful.

"No, no problem at all." She put on her surgical gloves and mask, and then shifted her chair over until she was next to Luke.

"Righty-o, Luke, if you'd just like to lean back, and open up, I'll take a scan."

"A _scan_?" Luke said, sounding as if the dentist had just asked for a sample of his flesh.

"See this?" she said, holding up a small tool. "This allows me to take a scan of your teeth. Then, when I plug it into QB's output emitter, like so—" she demonstrated the manoeuvre on the assistant droid. "Then I can see a holographic image of your teeth."

"Is this going to hurt?" Luke asked.

"Not at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Cooperate, Luke," Vader said, shifting around to the other side of the dentist's chair, beside the droid.

Luke reluctantly shuffled further up on the chair and slowly leaned back.

"Open up," Doctor Ferner said, shifting closer to Luke.

Vader watched as she began to scan Luke's teeth with the tool, hoping that Luke wouldn't embarrass him. The dentist seemed to understand Luke's reluctance, however, and was moving quickly.

"So, how is the Emperor?" she asked, voice somewhat muffled behind the surgical mask.

It took Vader a second to realize the question was directed at him. It was so unusual for him to be addressed in a casual manner like this. Although, ever since his son had moved in, these situations were becoming more and more common. Somehow, having a son made him seem more human in people's eyes. He still found it hard to recall just how he was supposed to act.

Luke saved him from answering by making a vaguely disgusted noise.

"What's wrong?" the dentist asked, sounding concerned.

"My son and the Emperor do not get on very well," Vader explained.

"Ah, I see," she chuckled. "Open wider, Luke. I need to reach those back teeth."

Luke did so, and the dentist continued to scan each tooth carefully.

"Does Luke like to eat a lot of sweet foods?" Doctor Ferner asked, after a few seconds of silence.

"Yes," Vader said. "Last week, I found enough discarded candy wrappers in his bedroom to feed an entire planet."

Luke made an angry noise of protest.

"Is there tooth decay?" Vader enquired.

"It appears so, yes," the dentist replied. "I'll see the extent in a moment."

"UMMP!" Luke moaned, as the dentist moved the scanner on to the back molars.

"What's wrong?" Doctor Ferner asked, pausing.

Luke sat up, holding his left cheek.

"Is something sore?"

Luke nodded.

"Sit back, and I'll have a look."

Luke shook his head, pulling away from the dentist.

"Luke," Vader said, "she can't help you if you don't cooperate."

"Just don't touch it!" Luke said.

"Which one hurts?"

"The last one, down the bottom," Luke said.

"I promise I won't touch it," she said. "I just need to finish the scan."

Luke reluctantly leaned back, and allowed the dentist to run the scanning tool over the back molar.

"There, all finished," she said.

Luke sat up, still holding his left cheek.

The dentist plugged the scanner into the droid, and it projected the image so Luke and Vader could see it also.

A holo image of Luke's teeth came into view, color-coded with reds, greens and blues.

"This is the top view," Doctor Ferner said. "Not too much wrong here, just a surface cavity over here—" she gestured with a lightpen. "And plaque build-up, as you can see by the green areas."

The dentist then gestured to the droid, and the view changed. "This is the bottom view. There's another cavity there, and some plaque build-up, but over here— She pointed to the tooth which had been causing Luke trouble, "—we've got real problems. The tooth has rotted almost to the nerve."

"Will it have to be removed?" Vader asked.

"Yes. It's a little too far gone to do much now. But we can embed a new, prosthetic tooth, and Luke will never notice the difference. They last for decades."

"You're going to pull it out?" Luke said, looking shocked. He attempted to climb off the chair, but Vader reached out a hand to stop him.

"It's a simple procedure."

"No!" Luke said, becoming distressed.

"You'll feel much better once it's out," Doctor Ferner said. "It must have been causing you a lot of pain—I'm surprised you could eat at all."

"Well," Luke said, "I have been struggling. A little."

"You've _known_ about this?" Vader asked, surprised.

Luke nodded, looking down.

"How long has this been causing you pain?" Vader asked.

"A few months," Luke said.

"A _few_ months?! Why didn't you tell me?"

"You'd have made me go to the dentist!" Luke said.

Doctor Ferner cleared her throat. "Removing the plaque build-up and repairing the surface cavities will just take a few minutes. If you prefer, we can remove and replace the tooth at a later date—I can prescribe a pain killer which can tide Luke over until we remove it."

"That sounds good!" Luke said.

"I would rather we do this now," Vader said. "It may be difficult to get Luke back here a second time."

"No!" Luke said. "It's my tooth! My decision!"

"Luke, this tooth has to come out. There is no point delaying it."

Luke frowned, looking away. "Will it hurt?" he asked, eventually.

Vader looked at the dentist.

"I'll neutralize the nerve, which will dull most of the pain. It may hurt a little when I pull it out, and it may tingle while the prosthetic tooth—"

"What's 'a little'?" Luke asked. "Is that just dentist talk for agonizing pain?"

"I think you should get this over and done with," Vader said, firmly.

Luke sighed.

"I need to go and retrieve the correct equipment from the lab next door," Doctor Ferner said, standing up. "I won't be a moment. Come, QB."

She left, and the droid rolled after her, leaving an awkward silence between Vader and his son.

Vader turned, gazing out the surgery window.

"I cannot believe you kept this from me, Son," Vader said, eventually. Another parenting failure to add to the list.

"I told you why," Luke said. "You'd have made me go and get it pulled out."

"If you had gone earlier, it would not need to be removed." Vader gestured towards the door. "She must think I neglect you."

"Oh, so this is really about your reputation?" Luke said. "Typical!"

"No. It is about you not letting me do my job. Luke, being your parent doesn't only mean we spend time together working on engines and droids. It means I am responsible for keeping you well, and I cannot do that if you pretend nothing is wrong when you clearly need help."

Luke folded his arms, looking away. "Well, maybe I don't want you to be my parent if it means dragging me here," he mumbled. "Imperial Family Services never made me go to the dentist."

During those first few months when he was still brand new to this entire parenting enterprise, Vader knew he'd have been hurt and angry at Luke's words. Now, with some more experience, he knew not to take what his young son said at face value.

"One day, you are going to appreciate that I care about your health."

Luke sighed, but he didn't argue with the idea. Vader suspected that he already appreciated it ... he just wasn't quite willing to admit it.

Vader sensed the dentist's return, moments before she appeared through the door. If she had overheard any of the argument, she did not comment. Instead, she returned to her seat beside Luke.

"Open up. I'll tell you when I've finished removing the plaque and fixing those surface cavities."

"Is this going to hurt?" Luke asked.

"No, you won't feel a thing."

Luke reluctantly leaned back and opened his mouth, and the dentist began to resume her work.

Vader hovered on the other side of Luke, not quite trusting his son not to make an escape attempt. The assistant droid worked around him, and fortunately for its sake, didn't ask him to move.

"Luke will have to cut down severely on the sweet foods," Doctor Ferner said to Vader, as she worked.

"How severely?" Vader asked.

"Eating bags of sugary candy is definitely out. Especially eating them over a long period of time. Occasionally, as a treat, would be all right, but not on a regular basis. If he likes to snack, then try him on sugar-free foods. Likewise with sweet drinks."

"I'll see to it," Vader said, firmly.

Luke made an angry moaning noise.

"You should meet my kids, Luke," Doctor Ferner said. "They think I'm the meanest mom in the galaxy, just because I won't let them touch those ever-popular fruit twists."

"No candy?" Luke asked, as the dentist went to retrieve a different tool. "That's not fair!"

"You will survive," Vader said.

"I'm ready to remove that tooth now," Doctor Ferner said. "I'll just neutralize the nerve."

She leaned over Luke, and moved the tool in to hover over his back tooth.

"AHHH!" Luke yelled. His left hand shot forward and gripped his father by the right arm.

Vader felt the mental echo of Luke's pain, followed immediately by the real thing as Luke dug his fingers tightly into his arm, right on the joint between flesh and prosthetic. He reached his left hand over to try and pry Luke's fingers off.

"It should soon start to feel numb," the dentist said.

"You didn't tell me that was going to hurt!" Luke said, rubbing his cheek.

"It shouldn't have been too bad."

"It was!" Luke said.

Vader succeeded in prying Luke's fingers from his arm, only to have him grip his hand, instead. He tried to pull it away, but Luke squeezed tighter.

Vader sighed to himself. Dark Lord of the Sith and heir to the Imperial throne, reduced to holding his son's hand while he had a tooth removed. As long as this never left the room, he could live with it. He didn't have much choice.

Luke was beginning to sweat, as the dentist re-entered his mouth with a tool to remove the tooth. Luke began to grip his hand harder and harder. Vader stretched out to channel the pain into the Force, hoping his hand wouldn't be crushed under the strain. After one agonizing squeeze, a moan from Luke, and a pain echo in Vader's mind, the dentist held up Luke's tooth and placed it off to the side.

"See, now, that wasn't so bad," she said, preparing to put in the prosthetic replacement.

Vader found himself fantasizing about choking her.

It took another five minutes for the dentist to finish with the replacement, and then it was all over. Vader didn't know who was more relieved, himself or his son.

"It will take a few weeks until you're used to the feel of the prosthetic," Doctor Ferner said, as Luke climbed off the chair. "Comm me if there are any complications, but it should be fine."

"When does he need to come back?" Vader asked.

Luke rolled his eyes, obviously not wanting to think about it.

"A year's time at most ... six months may be better. I'll send you a reminder."

"Great," Luke said, already standing next to the door. "Can I go now?"

"Yes, you can, and I'll see you next year."

Luke started to leave.

"Oh, one last thing," Doctor Ferner said, beckoning the droid forward.

Luke paused.

"QB will give you a smiley sticker for being such a good patient."

* * *

Vader was walking slightly in front of Luke as they headed back to the speeder.

"Don't even _try_ ," he said, as he sensed Luke attempting to attach the sticker to his cape. He paused and waited until Luke had caught up. "Now, was that really worth all the stalling?"

"Yes!" Luke said, rubbing his cheek. "It was horrible! I never want to go back."

"I am sure you feel much better without that rotting tooth."

Luke made an unintelligible mumbling noise.

"I suspected as much."

"I guess it is a relief," Luke admitted, eventually. "To know that everything is fine in there, now."

"Yes," Vader said, as they walked out onto the landing pad. "And it is going to stay that way. No more junk food."

"Sure," Luke said, climbing into the speeder. "I'll give it up after the blade racing final, this weekend."

"You will give it up immediately, young one," Vader said, starting the speeder's engine.

"Don't call me that," Luke sighed.

"Besides," Vader said, as they entered a main speeder traffic lane. "I am sure you will be enjoying yourself too much in the VIP viewing box to bother with eating candy."

"Huh?" Luke said, turning to his father in surprise.

His father gestured at the speeder's glove compartment.

Luke opened it and pulled out two tickets to the blade racing final, marked with a bright red VIP stamp.

"Wow, how did you get these!?" Luke said. "It's been sold out for months!"

"I get free tickets to all Coruscant sporting events," his father said.

"Have I ever told you," Luke said, "that you're the best father in the galaxy? I can't wait to tell Ben!"

"You can bring that irritating friend of yours as well, if you like," his father said, shifting out of the traffic lane as their home appeared below. "Although he may be reluctant, considering his constant terror in my presence."

"I'll convince him," Luke said. "I'll use that inspiring speech you gave me last night. Fear is worse than the thing itself, right?"

Luke studied his father for a moment. "All though, in _your_ case ..."

His father set the speeder down with a purposeful bump, causing Luke to smirk.

"Careful, Son," Vader said, "or I may change my mind about letting you stay home today."

Luke grinned wider. "So much for your complete heartlessness."

"I will be back this afternoon," Vader continued, as Luke climbed out of the speeder. "I will teach you some more droid repair. In the meantime—"

"I know," Luke said. "No junk food, no hologames, no HoloNet, and no doing anything besides homework and chores."

"Good."

Luke was about to push the speeder door closed, when he paused. "Uh ..." he started, shuffling uncomfortably and glancing aside.

"What?"

"Thanks for coming with me," Luke mumbled.

"I considered it my duty."

"I know," Luke said. "But thanks anyway. I … I actually am glad you're my father. Even when you make me go to the dentist."

He then ran off before Vader could think clearly enough to respond.

* * *

**Epilogue**

* * *

A chilling, clammy mist.

A steel-gray chair.

It could only mean one thing.

But why was he back here? It was all over now, wasn't it?

"Hello, Luke."

Luke flinched at the low, raspy tone. The gruesome figure stepped out of the shadows, illuminated by a single overhead light.

"I need to remove your tooth."

He switched on his lightsaber, which immediately turned the walls blood red.

Luke stepped back in fear. "NO! It's already gone, I swear!"

"No, not that tooth. Another one. I need a tooth for my collection—"

Luke took another step back and found himself tripping against a wall. He turned around, and saw it wasn't a wall at all. It was another person dressed in black ... his father!

"What are you doing here?" Luke said, looking up to meet his father's gaze.

"I sensed your fear on my way past your room," his father explained. "I thought I would see what was giving you nightmares. I never know what life-threatening traumas you might be hiding from me, do I?"

"I wish you'd let that go," Luke said. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you!"

His father looked past him. "Who is that?"

Luke turned around and saw Darth Dentist, waiting with his lightsaber ready. Behind him, his torture robots had hovered into view.

"Darth Dentist," the apparition said. "I need Luke's tooth for my collection."

Luke looked away in embarrassment.

"Darth _Dentist_?" his father repeated, sounding truly bemused.

Luke covered his face.

His father studied the figure for a few more seconds. "I suppose I should be grateful that he looks more like the Emperor than me," he said, finally. "Or your next appointment would be with a psychiatrist."

"I don't know where he came from!" Luke said. "It's just one of those crazy dreams. Don't you ever have crazy dreams?"

Darth Dentist stepped forward, brandishing his lightsaber. "Hand over the boy. He's mine!"

His father grasped his own lightsaber and ignited the blade in one quick movement, causing Luke to jump back in surprise.

In three seconds, not only had Darth Dentist been sliced in two, but the interrogation droids had been taken care of as well. The remains turned into dust on the ground and faded away.

Luke gaped in shock. "You ... you killed him!"

"He was no match for me," his father said, reattaching his lightsaber to his belt. "Now, I will leave you in peace to dream as you wish."

"Wait," Luke said. "Don't you want to stay? I've never shared a dream with anyone before. This could be fun."

"I have a feeling that we have opposing ideas about what is fun, Luke."

Luke was about to protest, when he saw his father's point. "Okay. Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight, Son."

His father's form faded away, leaving Luke's consciousness to slip back into peaceful, formless dreams.

* * *


	2. Interactive Media

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twelve-year-old Luke becomes obsessed with a HoloNet show, which stirs up memories his father would rather forget.

It was nearing midnight, Imperial City time, and Darth Vader was taking advantage of the peace and quiet to read his mail. Typically, most of it was a waste of his time and patience, but if he didn't go through it, he might miss the one or two important messages within the mix of invitations, offers and reports.

As he browsed the vast list, one subject line caught his attention. It was the newsletter from the solo-fathers HoloNet group he was an anonymous member of. He'd signed up once in a moment of desperation—and had been surprised to find his own parenting problems were entirely normal, and even leaned towards the milder end of the scale.

He opened up the message and read the main topic heading. _Bedtime—when is the right time, and how to stop the arguments_. The words caused Vader to feel a flood of relief that Luke was well past the age of fighting over bedtime. One less thing for them to argue about was always a good thing.

He was about to read on, when the main doors slid open with a loud hiss. A bright blue pajama-clad Luke came skidding in, carrying a pillow and a rolled-up portable hover-mattress.

"Can I sleep in here tonight?!" Luke gasped in a single breath.

Vader shut down his mail inbox, and swiveled his chair around to face his son. "Why?"

"Please?"

"What is wrong with your bedroom? Has the soiled clothing finally risen up in rebellion and ousted you?"

"Oh, very funny," Luke said, unrolling the hover-mattress.

"There will be no sleeping here," Vader said, standing up and stepping out of his meditation chamber. "I am trying to work. Besides, this is my private room. Go and sleep in a guest room if you need a change of scene."

Luke turned slightly red, looking away. "I ... uh ... I just wanted ... some company. Artoo and Threepio are charging in the hangar, and … I thought of you."

"You had a nightmare?"

Luke shook his head. "No, it was just ... have you ever watched _The Galaxy's Scariest True Stories_?"

Vader released a slow breath. "Luke, you are far too old to be scared of the dark."

"It wasn't the dark that was scary on this episode!"

Vader stepped forward and gestured at the hover-mattress, causing it to return to its rolled up state. He then pointed firmly in the direction of the door. Luke bowed his head and shuffled reluctantly towards the exit, with Vader following closely behind. Once they reached Luke's bedroom, Vader stood with his arms folded, until Luke had crawled back under the covers.

He was about to leave, when he paused, sensing genuine fear from Luke. Whatever idiotic, mindless HoloNet show he'd been watching, it had clearly rattled him.

Vader reluctantly pulled up a chair.

"I will stay until you fall asleep," he suggested.

Luke nodded, and turned over, pulling the blankets up around his neck. Vader used the Force to switch off the bed lamp, leaving only a flickering blur caused by his respirator lights.

After a few minutes of waiting, he decided to accelerate the process a little. He relaxed until he could distinguish the parent-child bond within the Force energy that surrounded him. _Sleep_ ... it was a simple command, and in Luke's current drowsy state, it had an immediate effect. Soon, the sensations on the other end of the bond became cloudy, and rhythmic breathing could be heard from the pillow. Vader stood up as quietly as he could and slipped out the door.

He almost smiled to himself as he walked down the corridor towards the balcony. _Another parenting task completed successfully_. The pleasant feelings soon gave way to confusion. Luke wasn't a baby; there was no pride to be taken in getting him to sleep. So why did it produce such feelings within him?

He rested against the balcony for a few minutes, taking in the vast cityscape and trying to turn his thoughts onto a subject more appropriate for a Dark Lord of the Sith. There were those interrogation reports to review. Perhaps he should get to work on those.

He turned swiftly, making his way back to the meditation chamber. Upon opening the door, he took two steps forward, only to find himself one centimeter away from tripping on an occupied hover mattress.

"Luke!"

"You won't even notice I'm here!" Luke insisted, fattening his pillow.

Vader was about to argue, when he suddenly waved a dismissive hand, and walked around Luke's makeshift bed.

"Very well, but only for tonight. And sleep over there." Vader pointed towards the wall.

Luke pushed his hands against the floor, floating the mattress over to the side.

"Goodnight, Father."

Vader switched off the meditation chamber lights, deciding that if Luke was going to sleep here, he may as well meditate. The interrogation reports could wait.

"Sleep well, Son."

* * *

Luke was somewhat embarrassed the next morning. The thoughts and feelings that had left him unable to sleep alone in his room seemed silly now, in daylight.

He didn't think about it again, until Ben brought up the HoloNet show when they were walking home from school.

"Did you see that new episode of _Scariest True Stories_?" Ben asked. "It was awesome!"

"It was okay," Luke said, fidgeting. He felt uneasy, as though there was someone following them, and the mention of the HoloNet show wasn't helping.

" _Speed Gambit_ was good too—I like the new opening credits."

" _Speed Gambit_?" Luke asked, grateful they could talk about something other than _Scariest True Stories_.

Ben gaped at him. "You've never seen _Speed Gambit_? You _have_ to watch it—'ll give you all the episodes I've got on datatape tomorrow."

"What's it about?" Luke asked, looking over his shoulder. The feeling of being watched was getting worse.

"A group of racers, who ... well, they race. You'd like it."

Luke suddenly pushed his friend towards a nearby building entrance.

"What is it?" Ben asked, as Luke joined him.

"It's the media—I saw one of their speeders. They're trailing us." Luke drew back behind a large pillar.

Ben scanned the overhead traffic lanes. "I don't see any ... wait, there's a Coruscant News Network speeder ... they've landed over the other side ... hey, that's not a landing pad!"

Luke looked desperately through the transparent doors of the building. It appeared to be a hotel.

"Come on," Luke said, pulling Ben towards the doors.

They ran through several sets of revolving glass doors, causing reception droids to protest loudly. They didn't stop until they were inside an elevator. Luke pressed the button for the top floor and leaned back against the wall, panting.

"Where are we going to go at the top?" Ben asked.

"We'll figure that out when we get there," Luke said.

"That's always your plan for everything," Ben sighed.

As it turned out, they didn't have much of a choice. The doors slid open at the top floor to reveal a man with six arms, a lime-green suit, and a hands-free comlink.

"Luke Vader?"

Luke groaned and slammed his hand down on the elevator buttons. Nothing happened.

"That isn't my name," Luke said. "You have the wrong person." He continued to press the floor buttons, until he realized the man had one of his arms across the door, preventing it from closing.

He removed his reflective sunglasses. "Caz Baxter, Holoworld Entertainment Inc producer. How are you today, Luke? Did you have a good day at school? That's great."

"Go away," Luke said. "I'm not answering any of your questions."

"Questions? No, I'm here to extend you an invitation," Caz babbled, talking like a speeder-salesman trying to push a deal. "The Larita show, ever seen it? We're doing a special on the sons and daughters of the powerful. How they cope, what their ambitions are, whether they drink regular or diet, you know the kind of thing? Of course you do. It's going to be out of this galaxy—a ratings smash! Would be even better with your participation."

"Hey, I've seen that show," Ben interrupted.

"You watch talk shows?" Luke asked, looking at his friend in surprise.

"No," Ben said, looking embarrassed. "I was channel hopping and I happened to see Jabney from _Galactic Bandits_ on it."

"Sure," Luke said, smirking.

"And apart from the fame and glory, we would of course be offering you a substantial sum of money," Caz continued, rubbing a thumb and forefingers together. "Credits, the hard stuff ... a bright young boy like yourself would make good use of that."

"How much?" Ben asked, curious.

"Name your price and we'll fix something up right now."

"Wow, Luke, you should do it!"

Luke buried his head in his hands, sighing. Caz took that as an invitation to join them in the elevator.

"Your friend has the right idea. What do you say, Luke? Time waits for nobody. Neither does money, for that matter." Caz pulled out a datapad from one of his many suit pockets. "All we need you to do is press your thumb right here and we're all set. We'll send you the details about when and where to show up, and—"

Luke raised his hands. "Stop it! I can't sign anything without asking my father first!"

"Your father? Come on, a young man of your age doesn't need his father's permission to say yes to earning some money, now does he?"

"Yes, he does," Luke said, firmly. "Have you met my father, by any chance? Really tall, dresses in black ... in a permanent bad mood?"

"Sure, I get it, I understand completely. Here, I'll give you my datacard, so you can comm me when you agree to accept."

Luke reluctantly accepted the card, just as the elevator began to move down.

"Can I be on the show?" Ben asked. "My father is a royal guard."

Caz didn't look at Ben. "Maybe if we were desperate, kiddo," he said. "Luke, while I'm here, do you want to make any other opening statements? The kind of thing we can use on the promos and billboards—"

"I haven't made any statements," Luke said, annoyed.

"Sure you have. That stuff about needing your father's permission is great—I'm already getting a vision of the spin we can put on you—the tragic tale of a boy living in the strict confines of an oppressive father who—"

Luke banged a floor button in frustration.

"Although, on the other hand, that might not make it past the censors," Caz said, waving his numerous hands around. "Okay, scrub the oppression stuff ... let's make out your father is just a regular citizen when he's at home ... the kind of person everyone can relate to."

Ben burst out laughing. "Luke's father? You've got to be kidding—one of his hobbies is chopping up droids with his laser sword."

Caz smiled like someone had just given him a million credits.

"Ben!" Luke said, pushing his friend "Shut up!"

"No, carry on, this is great stuff—you know, maybe we _can_ put you on the show ... what did you say your name was again?"

While Caz had been talking, the doors had slid open and he'd stepped out, obviously anticipating they were going to do the same.

Luke quickly dived at the door close button. Caz was just a fraction too slow to stop him. The elevator moved on, leaving him far behind.

Ben laughed. "Nice move."

"I wonder how he knew we were going to the top?" Luke asked.

"You know what they're like—they've probably staked out half the building. They figured you'd run in here when you saw the speeder land."

Luke rubbed his forehead. "Maybe I should call home for a ride."

Ben pointed at one of the button labels. "I've got a better idea. Let's go to the mall—there are thousands of people there, he'll never find us."

Luke brightened. "Good idea."

The elevator stopped, and they stepped out into a transparent overpass, leading over to the nearby Imperial City mall. They were soon lost in the crowds commuting between the hotel and the vast shopping center. Luke let out a sigh of relief. They were safe for now.

"So, do you think you'll go on the show?" Ben asked, as they pressed against a wall to let some exceptionally hairy aliens pass.

"Are you kidding? My father wouldn't let me do that to save my life."

"Neither would mine," Ben agreed. "No matter how big the pay was."

"I can't even ask him. I'm not allowed to talk to the media at all. If he finds out I said one word to that guy, he'll probably make the entire company disappear overnight."

"As long as _Speed Gambit_ is still on—and _Scariest True Stories_ , of course—I don't care what your father does to the media."

"What is so great about this _Speed Gambit_ show?" Luke asked, as they made their way to their favorite part of the mall. "You were starting to tell me before the media turned up."

"Everything about it is great," Ben said, "—and that reminds me. There's a new store which just opened nearby. Nebula Nest. It sells toys from _Speed Gambit_ and other neat stuff."

"What kind of stuff?"

"All kinds. You'll like it."

As it turned out, he did like it. It was a small shop, by Imperial City Mall standards, and was filled with all kinds of knick-knacks and merchandise, most of it from various entertainment franchises. Everywhere he turned there was something interesting, from holographic trading cards, to model vehicles of a type he'd never seen before.

Luke picked out several holo-comics to add to his collection, before spotting a shelf filled with boxed action figures, one of who looked very familiar.

He picked it up in disbelief, not convinced until he actually read the label.

"Ben!" he called. "Look at this!" He held up the box. "It's the Emperor!"

"Oh yeah, there's a whole line of products based around him," Ben said. "My cousin had a chrono with his face on it once."

Luke tucked the box under his arm and started looking through the rest of the figures.

"Grand Moff Tarkin? Never heard of him," Luke said, tossing the box back. "I've never heard of half these people."

"There are senators as well," Ben said, pushing some of the boxes aside. "You've just got to look carefully ... there's people out there who collect all of them, and they buy up all the rare ones then sell them over the HoloNet at inflated prices."

"What in space is this?" Luke said, pulling out a different shaped box. It wasn't an action figure, but a model vehicle. Luke couldn't place it though—it didn't look like anything his father had in his collection. There were two huge engines, hooked up to a tiny rear cockpit by a couple of tow cables. The label insisted it was a podracer, whatever that was.

"Wow," Ben said, snatching it from him. "That's Seety's racer from _Speed Gambit_! I've been looking for one of these—thanks!"

"Anytime," Luke said, losing interest. He turned the Emperor box over, looking at the picture of other figures in the line. "Where's my father?"

"They don't make him," Ben explained.

"Why not? If they make all the senators and moffs, they should make him! I suppose they asked him and he threatened to have the company destroyed ... he can be a real killjoy sometimes."

Ben suddenly picked up a box from the back of the shelf. "Hey, look! A royal guard! I never knew they made these!" Ben held up the box to show Luke. Inside, was a perfect miniature replica of a red-robed, red-masked royal guard.

"Well, I've got my father," Ben said, grinning. "I can't wait to show him this."

Luke sighed. "I guess I'll have to make do with this Emperor."

"I thought you hated the Emperor?"

"I do. I can hang this one upside down from the ceiling. Or maybe I can melt it down, and poke a stick through it."

"Are you sure that's worth paying for?" Ben asked, as they lined up at the checkout.

"It's priceless!" Luke insisted.

* * *

Five thousand channels. _Five thousand_. And yet there was absolutely nothing on. Luke poked the remote button repeatedly, becoming increasingly frustrated. Was there anyone who was actually interested in all this trash?

Luke paused on a scene showing a couple of engines dragging a cockpit across a snowy landscape. He recognized it immediately from the toy model he'd see in the Nebula Nest store—this must be _Speed Gambit_. Luke leaned closer, amazed at how fast the vehicle was traveling. They didn't look so strange now ...

Luke was about to turn up the volume, when his bedroom doors hissed open, causing him to sit up to see over the side of the pillow he was draped across. His father stepped into the room, causing Luke to glance around quickly, making sure the Emperor action figure was well hidden. He'd be in big trouble if his father saw that. Luckily, it was still in its wrapping.

"I have to leave Coruscant," his father said. "Will you be able to sleep on your own tonight?"

Luke nodded. "I'm okay."

His father pointed at him. "No watching mindless HoloNet shows."

Luke nodded, while surreptitiously pressing the off button on his remote. His father was currently standing with his back to the projector, and so was unaware it was on.

"Especially anything with the word 'scariest' in the title. And eat properly, and get to bed on time. I will remind the droids to keep an eye on you. Remember, you can always contact me on my private frequency. I will call you whenever I get a chance."

"Going anywhere fun?" Luke asked.

"My mission is classified."

"That means yes, right?"

"It means curious young ones will have to wait until I get back to find out," his father said, moving to leave. "Now, behave yourself."

"I'll try not to," Luke said, frowning at the patronizing tone.

"Goodbye, Son."

"Bye."

After the doors slid closed, Luke clicked the HoloNet projector back on and shuffled forward.

The characters were discussing racing. The tall green guy had come second, but he was telling the others about his sabotage suspicions ... Luke leaned back, deciding this was his kind of show. Good way to pass the time until he felt sleepy, at least. Luke yawned, deciding that time wouldn't be far off. What, with the media stalking him one moment, and Emperor toys the next, it had been a busy day.

* * *

Days later, Vader stood in the middle of a deep, rocky cavern, waiting for the last stormtrooper scouts to return from the cave entrance before him. Yesterday, they had attacked from the air, flushing out the Rebel cell with a fleet of TIE Bombers. Then, Vader had entered the base from the ground. By the time darkness fell, all the Rebels had been accounted for.

Today's visit was simply to strip the base of supplies and evidence, a task Vader found tiresome. He was impatient to return to Coruscant and report the victory to the Emperor.

The last two stormtroopers returned, carrying a crate of droid parts between them. Vader followed them to the nearby troop transport shuttle. As he boarded the ramp, he turned around to survey the area one last time. If there were any more Rebels hiding in this cavern, they were invisible to the Force.

"Get us underway," he said, sensing the pilot waiting at the top of the ramp.

"Yes, sir."

Once on board, Vader pressed the button to retract the boarding ramp, and then made his way to the passenger lounge. He may as well take the time to check his messages.

After he had completed the verification procedure on the terminal, he was surprised to see two recorded messages from Coruscant. He had spoken to Luke this morning and nothing had seemed amiss. The first one loaded, and his son's face came into view. He looked nervous, and Vader immediately became worried.

"Hi, Dad. Listen, Lev said he was going to contact you, but I told him he didn't need to, because this is all a misunderstanding. I never promised I was going to do anything—I said I'd ask you, that's all. I only said it to get the guy to leave me alone!"

There was the sound of something crashing to the floor, and Luke turned aside. "No, Artoo, that doesn't need fixing!" Luke disappeared off-screen for a moment, leaving Vader with a view of his bedroom. A few clothes came flying past the screen, as if Luke was looking for something.

Vader tapped his fingers impatiently, until Luke came back into view.

"Sorry about that. I'd edit it out, but I don't know how." Luke poked at a few controls, causing the image brightness to increase. "Oh, so that's what that button does! I always wondered."

Vader felt relief that he was the only one in the room. If anyone else saw this ...

"Anyway, as I was saying, this was all a mistake. Please don't be mad! I hope you're having a good time, wherever you are. Bye!"

The image turned to static, leaving Vader puzzled. Hopefully the second message would shed some light on the matter.

An image of one of the palace assistants, Lieutenant Dorany, replaced the static.

"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but you told me to inform you if there were any problems with Luke, no matter how trivial. Today a producer called claiming Luke had agreed to appear on a HoloNet talk show. I informed him that verbal contracts with minors were void under Imperial law, and then he told me there was something in it for me, if I agreed to cooperate."

Vader clenched his fingers together, imagining what he would do to media producers who offered bribes to Imperial officers.

"I was concerned for Luke, so I told him he couldn't leave the building without a contingent of stormtroopers, until you were able to sort this out. He said ... well, he wasn't open to the idea, sir. But we managed to reach an agreement—I agreed to take him over to Ben's apartment to pick up some more data tapes, and he said he would stay at the palace if he had enough to keep him going. I will keep you updated if there are any further developments."

The message cut out, and Vader quickly moved to send a message back to Luke.

It took a few seconds for the signal to connect, and then the Imperial Logo appeared. After thirty seconds had ticked away, the image dissolved into a view of Luke's bedroom. There was no sign of his son.

Vader was confused, until a flurry of beeps and chirps sounded over the comlink. Then the view angle was lowered, until Artoo Detoo came into focus. He beeped in a questioning tone.

"Where is Luke?" Vader asked, impatiently.

Artoo launched into a long, detailed explanation, none of which was intelligible to Vader. It was cut off when the bottom half of Threepio came into the frame.

"Artoo! Who are you talking to!? You can't use the comlink, you idiotic waste of circuitry!"

Threepio tilted the viewer upwards and started when he recognized Vader.

"Oh, hello, sir. Luke has gone to a friend's home to pick up some data tapes, but he should be back very soon."

"Tell him I said that he is not to leave the palace until I get back," Vader said. "Not under any circumstance."

"Very well, sir."

"I will return as soon as possible," Vader added, before cutting the call.

* * *

The Star Destroyer wasn't due to return to the galactic capital for another two days, so Vader took a smaller, faster ship and began the journey back as soon as it was able to be fueled. All thoughts of reporting victory to his master had disappeared, under the more pressing concern of making certain his son was safe and unharmed.

The first thing Vader noticed, as he opened Luke's bedroom door, was that his son appeared to have redecorated his room. There were little plastic models everywhere; hanging from the ceiling, stuck on the walls, even dangling from the doorframe. The shapes seemed familiar somehow ... two engines, connected to a cockpit by thin strands of wire. Podracers!

"Hi, Father," Luke said, from the floor in front of his holovid projector. "Have a good trip?"

Vader didn't reply. He was still staring blankly at the models.

"Do you like them?" Luke asked. "They're from this awesome new HoloNet show called Speed Gambit! It's about this group of racers, and it's set in the past, so they race these weird machines called podracers. They're so fast!" Luke gestured at the moving figures on the projector. "This is last night's episode, but I'm watching it again. Velos—he's the main character—nearly got killed in a race, so Seety—I think there's something going on between those two, even though they're different species—she's suggesting maybe it's time to give it up and get real jobs but ..."

Vader finally tore his gaze away from the models, and focused on Luke.

"Did you stay here like I ordered you to?"

"Sure," Luke said. "I've just been sitting around watching _Speed Gambit_. Ben gave me all his recordings of past episodes. I'm so addicted to this show!"

Vader cleared some space on Luke's bed and sat down. He raised a hand, and the projector clicked off.

"Hey, I'm watching that!" Luke protested.

"You _were_ watching that," Vader corrected. "Now, you are explaining how a media producer was under the impression you had agreed to appear on a show."

Luke groaned. "I was hoping you'd have forgotten."

"Unfortunately not."

"Well," Luke said, climbing up to sit next to Vader, "Ben and I were walking home from school, and a media speeder started following us ... we ran into a hotel, and took the elevator, but a man was waiting at the top. Caz ... something ...Caz Baxter. He started jabbering on at 100 kilometers an hour about this talk show ... eventually, we got rid of him. But I never agreed to anything. I said I'd ask you, just to make him shut up. I didn't know he was going to call back."

Vader was fuming. "This is completely unacceptable," he said, angrily.

"I'm sorry," Luke said, eyes wide.

Vader turned to his son. "You did nothing wrong. I will make my displeasure known to them. This will not happen again—if it does, you must tell me immediately, then I can track down the culprits and have them arrested."

"Isn't that a little extreme? They're annoying, but—"

"Extreme would be omitting the arrest and going straight to the execution," Vader said, slamming his hand against the bed surface. His gesture caused a databook to bounce into the air, and Vader caught it. "Which is what I will do if this continues."

He studied the databook for a moment and then sucked in a sharp breath. _The Galaxy's Greatest Pod Racers_.

"That's a book I found in the library," Luke said, sounding relieved to move the conversation away from executions. "I wanted to find out more about this podracing sport. It was so dangerous it was illegal on most planets! I can see why it died out, but it looks so awesome!"

Vader concentrated on keeping his breathing steady and even, and then stood up to leave.

"Wait, where are you taking that?" Luke called. "I was reading it first!"

"You can have it back later," Vader said, distantly.

Once he was out in the corridor, he pressed the page forward button until his fears were realized in the form of a shimmering hologram. A young slave boy, standing next to a blue-striped podracer, waving at a cheering crowd. The caption read: _Annikan Syhalker: the only human podracer, winner of the Boonta Eve classic._

Despite the misspelling of his old name, it would not have fooled his son. He would have discovered the truth—not only about his youthful love of dangerous racing sports, but also his shameful origins. Knowing about the racing would be bad enough—he'd never hear the end of the questions and the badgering for details—but knowing about the slavery ... he would never burden his son with that knowledge.

In the privacy of his meditation chamber, he plugged the databook into a terminal and waited for the contents to download. It had been a while since he'd attempted any similar engineering feat to the one he was about to do, but there shouldn't be any difficulty. It was just a matter of adjusting the security circuit to allow some minor tampering of the data, and then relocking it, to dispel any suspicions.

Twenty minutes later, Vader unplugged the databook from the terminal, and cycled through the pages, making sure his changes had taken effect. He'd removed all pages relating to 'Annikan Syhalker', and adjusted some that mentioned the name in passing. The winner's list of the Boonta Eve Classic was a concern, but he finally decided to make Ben Quadinaros the winner. Despite these events belonging to the lifetime of another man, he still couldn't bring himself to write Sebulba as the winner, even though he was the most logical choice.

Vader couldn't help but feel a certain amount of relief as he stood up to return the databook to Luke. It felt like another ghost from the past had been put to rest. Luke had an uncanny habit of stirring them up ... he was a ghost from the past unto himself, of course ... but this time, he had analyzed it and dealt with it, with no great drama or emotional conflict to suffer through. His master would have been proud.

* * *

"Interesting book."

Luke glanced up to see his father had returned. He tossed the databook back on his bed.

"I know," Luke said, turning back to the holo projector. "Did you ever see a podrace when you were a Jedi?"

His father was silent for a while, before offering an elusive, "Perhaps."

The episode of _Speed Gambit_ he was watching came to a close, and Luke flicked a button to pause the display. "They show stats about real life pod racers at the end of each episode," Luke explained, coming closer to study the words in the display, "Some of these people must be still alive ... I wonder if they're still racing?"

"How many episodes of this entertainment have you viewed?" his father asked, suddenly sounding tense.

Luke stared at him, feeling a little confused. "About fifteen so far. I've got another five here," Luke said, patting a pile of data tapes.

"Spending all this time staring at a projector is unhealthy," his father said, pointing at the pile of storage tapes to retrieve them from the floor.

"First my book and now my tapes!" Luke said, annoyed. "Honestly! I had them first ... you can get your own if you want to watch them."

"I have no interest in your mindless entertainment," his father insisted, forcefully.

He then turned swiftly to leave, carrying the stack of tapes. On the way, he awkwardly dodged a cardboard model of a Vulptereen, hanging from the ceiling.

"I don't know why I give you an allowance, when all you spend it on is pointless toys."

Luke sighed as the doors slid closed after his father. He was a real mystery sometimes. Although he really should look on the bright side—he may have confiscated his tapes, but he hadn't noticed the Emperor doll, despite its place of honor, hanging by one foot from the center of his ceiling. He really should move it to a more discreet location.

* * *

The next morning, Vader paced up and down in a conference room, trying to figure out a solution to this irritating problem. He'd been through all the tapes he'd found in his son's room and none of them mentioned his past self in their little educational segment.

But for all he knew, there could be hundreds of episodes of this mindless entertainment. How could he possibly go through all of them?

He would have to go to the source of this holovid show, the source of what was quickly becoming the bane of his life. It would be an unusual visit for a Dark Lord of the Sith, but then, nothing had been particularly usual in his life since Luke had entered it.

He pressed a button to summon an assistant and within a minute, a lieutenant had entered the room.

"Sir," he said, coming to attention.

"I have a somewhat unusual request," he replied, deciding pretending everything was normal was pointless. "My son is addicted to some entertainment show called _Speed Gambit_."

"Oh," the man replied, "I know the one. It's very popular, sir."

"I wish to talk with the producers of this show. I want you to arrange a meeting."

"Here, sir?"

"No. I will go to wherever they are based—I may need to inspect some of their archives."

"What time would be suitable for you, sir?"

"As soon as possible."

"Very good, sir." The man saluted, and turned to leave.

Within half an hour, he received confirmation—the producer of _Speed Gambit_ would meet with him in two hours, at the Imperial Media Corporation production offices. Now all he had to do was work out what he was going to say.

* * *

"Have you finished with my tapes yet?" Ben asked, as he and Luke walked down the corridor towards the cafeteria.

"No. I'm really sorry, but my father has a few of them. Don't worry though—I'll get them back soon."

"Why did he take them?"

"I wish I knew," Luke said, shrugging. They chose a table, and sat down on either side. "He's been acting weird ever since he got back from some classified mission yesterday."

"Maybe he was abducted and replaced with an imposter," Ben suggested, taking out his lunch.

"Ben, that is the stupidest thing I ever heard."

"Hey, it's happened before! It was on _Galaxy's Scariest True Stories_ last night!"

Luke groaned. "I hate that show. Besides, if it isn't my father then they found someone exactly his size who knows how to use the Force."

Ben shrugged. "What's wrong with him then?"

Luke looked thoughtful. "I don't know. He just seems ... rattled about something. Calm one minute, all tense the next. Maybe he just needs a vacation."

"Maybe," Ben agreed. "By the way, I've got some news for you."

"What?"

"Just a little piece of information I read on the HoloNet last night."

"What, Ben?! Tell me already!"

Ben just grinned.

"It's about _Speed Gambit_ , isn't it?"

"Maybe ..."

"Come on!"

"Okay. They're opening the new technology exhibit at the Imperial City museum next week. Guess who's going to be there as a guest?"

"Someone from _Speed Gambit_?"

Ben nodded. "Bik Vorshy."

"Velos! Wow!"

"You know he's really human?" Ben said. "I saw his picture on the HoloNet. They just use makeup to make him look ... whatever species his character is supposed to be."

"Tarsayian," Luke supplied. "So can anyone go to this event?"

"No, it's invite only. But you could wait outside ... that's what a lot of the fans are going to do, in the hope of getting his autograph. That's what I'd do, but my dad said no."

"When is it?"

"In a week. It's at night though ... that's why my dad wouldn't let me go."

"I doubt my luck is gonna be any better," Luke said, gloomily. "Considering the way my father's been acting lately."

* * *

The IMC production building hadn't changed much. The last time he'd been here was a good twenty years ago, when he and Obi-Wan had come to interview a suspect in a case they were investigating. It wasn't called the Imperial Media Center then, of course, but Vader couldn't help but cynically speculate that it was just as controlled by the government then as it was now.

But then it had been subtle ... the only signs were money exchanging hands in some dark corner—bribes from senators to portray them in a good light. Now, it was very much in the open— every door and wall had the Imperial Logo stamped into it, leaving no doubt as to whom the master of this giant corporation was.

He came alone, deciding that any kind of contingent would only intimidate his host further. This wasn't an intimidation meeting, after all. Yet, at least.

He entered the reception area, and was approached immediately by a man with multiple arms, a loud shirt, and reflective eye shades. He flicked them off and hooked them into his belt.

"Lord Vader," he said, offering a slightly shaky hand. "Caz Baxter, I'm the producer of _Speed Gambit_. It is an honor to meet and be acquainted with you."

"Caz Baxter?" Vader repeated, not bothering to accept the offered hand. "So _you_ are the one who harassed my son."

The man stepped back, holding up his hands. "I was assured by your assistant that this was a completely, entirely unrelated meeting."

"It was," Vader said, pointing at the man. "But it is no longer."

"I would have gone through the boy's agent, but he didn't have one, so I figured he was new to the celebrity scene, and was looking for his first big break—"

"My son is not a celebrity," Vader interrupted. "Under no circumstances will I allow him to be exploited for your commercial gain."

"Exploited?! No, not at all, I _love_ your son, so ordinary, a regular kid and good looks to boot—he'd earn enough to make him a billionaire by the time he's shaving. And think about what his publicity could do for _your_ reputation ... let's sweep away that heartless killer fallacy, and—"

"What makes you think it is a fallacy?" Vader asked.

"Anyone who loves his son as much as you can't be all bad, right?" Caz asked, chuckling nervously.

"You are either very brave, or very stupid."

"That's how I got to where I am today," Caz said, starting to fidget at Vader's menacing tone.

"If you ever come near my son again, I will have you arrested," Vader said. "Or killed, depending on my mood. But if I were you, I would not count on it being a good one."

"Ah ...I ... uh, I see ..." Caz mumbled, starting to sweat. "Point taken."

"Good. Now, I have something else I need to discuss with you concerning your show, Mr Baxter."

The man stared blankly for a few seconds, before recovering. "Sure, of course. Best if we speak in my office, in private."

The reception area was deserted—the staff had probably heard of his imminent arrival and taken an early lunchbreak—but Vader humored the man.

"I was very, very surprised when I heard you wanted to talk to me about _Speed Gambit_ ," Caz continued, as he entered his office. It was large, spacious and spotless. The walls were decorated with holo-posters of various entertainment products. "I knew the show was an out of this galaxy, amazing success, but I didn't know we'd made the holovid screens of the Imperial Palace."

"I am not interested in your product," Vader said, staring at a gap on the wall, where it was obvious a poster had been hastily removed. He wondered what had been considered inappropriate for him to see. Probably something of an adult nature. "However, my son has taken an excessive amount of interest."

"Ah, if I only I had known he was a fan, I would have—"

"Yesterday, he informed me about a historical information segment which screens at the end of each episode."

"Profiling real life pod racers, I know the exact part you're talking about," Caz added, helpfully.

"Yes. I am concerned about the possible promotion of one particular historical podracer ... one who went on to become a Jedi."

"Oh, yes, I know the exact one you mean … the human one ... from that backwater desert planet. Jedi, you say?" He looked up suddenly, seeming to catch on. " _Speed Gambit_ is a quality, family show—we consider the Imperial Media Charter of utmost, extreme importance, in everything we do here at Holoworld. We practically worship the media charter." Caz pointed at a pink holographic projection attached to the wall. "See, there it is, right where I can read it every single day. There's no risk of any Jedi featuring on our show, not while I'm producing it."

"Good. So this ... podracer has not featured on any episode to date?"

"No, absolutely not, I am one hundred percent certain of that fact."

Vader could sense the truth behind the man's words. "That is all I needed to know."

"Before you leave ..." Caz walked over to the cupboard behind his desk. He pulled out a box full of something Vader couldn't quite place. "Just to make sure there's absolutely no hard feelings about the whole talkshow business—here's a box of limited edition _Speed Gambit_ merchandise for your son."

Vader accepted the box, somewhat reluctantly. Furthering his son's obsession was the last thing he wanted to do, but then, he would seem like a heartless parent if he said no, and that was one notorious image he didn't want associated with him.

* * *

After school, Luke came straight home, hoping to get the datatapes of the _Speed Gambit_ episodes back from his father. Or, at least, a better explanation as to why he had taken them. He threw his school pack in his bedroom, collected a snack from the kitchen droids, and then went in search of his father.

He found him working in a conference room, near the ship hangar.

"Hi," Luke said, barging into the room and slipping into a seat opposite his father. "Can I have those data tapes back?"

His father let out a slow breath and leaned back to survey him. "I left them in your room," he said, eventually.

"Oh," Luke said, feeling slightly stupid for not checking.

"Along with a box filled with _Speed Gambit_ marketing debris you might like."

"Marketing debris? You mean ... merchandise?"

"Yes."

"Where did you get it?" Luke asked, suspiciously.

"Never mind."

Luke stared at his father, in puzzlement. Maybe Ben was right, and his father _had_ been replaced by an imposter.

" _You_ went shopping?" Luke asked, his tone heavy with disbelief.

"No, of course not," his father said, continuing to read a datapad. "They were given to me."

Luke leaned back, thinking. Suddenly, he sat forward, pointing at his father. "All right, I've figured it out. The data book, the tapes, the merchandise ... I've figured it all out."

His father looked up, his posture suddenly tense.

"You're a big fan of podracing," Luke said. "You saw lots of pod races when you were younger, but you just don't want to admit it to me. It clashes with your Sith Lord image."

His father didn't reply, but he seemed to relax slightly.

"Wait, but that still doesn't explain the merchandise," Luke said, looking aside. "Who gave it to you?"

His father flexed his hands together, as if in two minds about telling him. Finally, he relented. "Do you remember Caz Baxter?"

"The producer?"

"Yes. I was speaking with him today. Coincidentally, he also produces _Speed Gambit_. I happened to mention that you were a fan of the show, and he gave me the items in order to make amends for harassing you the other day."

Luke grinned. "Do you think he'd let me be on it as an extra?"

"Do you think _I_ would let you be on it as an extra?" his father asked, pointedly.

Luke sighed, shaking his head. He picked up a nearby datapad, curious as to what his father was doing. "What's this?" he asked.

His father didn't reply, as he had gone back to his work.

Luke scrolled through the items on the datapad, realizing it was a list of invitations, all addressed to his father.

"You get invited to a lot of things," Luke observed, idly.

Luke suddenly gasped, spying something in one of the invites that pushed him to the edge of his seat.

"What is it?" his father asked, sounding weary.

"The new technology exhibit! You're invited! Bik Vorshy is a guest!"

"Who?"

"He plays the main character on _Speed Gambit_ ," Luke explained. "Father, we _have_ to go to this!"

"We?"

"I can't go by myself. The invite is only addressed to you!" Luke stared pleadingly at his father, hoping desperately he could sense how much this meant to him.

"Luke, I am not going to some tedious function, just so you can further your obsession with some mindless entertainment. I am becoming truly tired of hearing about it."

"But—"

"—and I am trying to work. Go and watch your tapes."

"This is a once in a lifetime opportunity!" Luke said, standing up and leaning over the table. "It wouldn't take that long, I swear!"

His father stood up and began to walk around the table, on a direct line towards Luke.

"It's in one week!" Luke continued, turning to face his father. "Can you please, please, please make sure you're free!"

"I already gave you my answer, Luke." He stretched out an arm, grabbing Luke by the collar.

"But this is really important to me!" Luke tried, as he was dragged towards the exit. "Please! I'll do anything!"

His father's only response was to push him out the door, leaving him alone in the corridor.

"But Daaaaad ..." Luke tried, turning to re-enter the room. The doors remained tightly closed.

Luke sat down against the wall to wait. His father had to come out of there sooner or later, and when he did, he'd be ready. His father would give in eventually, even if he had to nag at him for the entire weekend.

* * *

As the sun rose on a clear Coruscant morning, a week later, Vader couldn't help but feel pleased with himself. Tonight was the opening of the technology exhibit, and he had managed to resist Luke's begging for an entire week. Two days ago, his son had given up pleading with him entirely.

Vader wasn't sure whether that was because Luke had lost hope, or because he'd banned him from his presence—you could never be entirely certain with Luke. It didn't matter now, anyway. For once, Luke hadn't managed to manipulate him to get what he wanted.

He let out a slow breath as he surveyed the clogged rush-hour speeder lanes from the balcony. He had a lot to do today, as he did every day. He should make a start.

As he was about to turn, he heard footsteps behind him. Luke stepped on to the balcony, holding a datapad.

"Don't you have school today?" Vader asked.

"It's the weekend."

"Then go and do your homework," Vader said, pointing at the door.

"I did it yesterday at school," Luke said. "And I've got something to give you."

Vader studied his son, wondering what he was up to. Luke reached out to give him the datapad. Vader accepted it, but did not lower his gaze from his son. Eventually, he looked down and switched on the screen.

He skimmed over the text. _We, the undersigned, hereby agree that Luke's father should take him to the opening of the technology exhibit, so he can get Bik Vorshy's autograph._

"A petition?"

Luke nodded. "There's fifty signatures on there."

Vader was tempted to toss it over the balcony, but he resumed reading out of curiosity. _Artoo-Detoo. See-Threepio. UH-764. BN-234_. Vader scrolled down to the bottom, seeing an endless stream of serial numbers and code designations. "These are all droids."

"Their opinions are worth just as much as anyone else's!" Luke insisted. After a few moments of silence, he spoke again. "Well, there would be other people, but the guards, security, and assistant office staff were all too scared of you to sign it, but they were supportive!"

"You told the palace staff we were having personal differences?!"

"They had figured that out anyway. Ben would have signed it too, but he said it was illegal to petition a government official."

"He is right," Vader said, still amazed his son had gone to so much trouble. "I could have you arrested for this." A name at the end of the list caught his eye. "UCOMPACT-12. Is that a serial number of a trash compactor? I was not aware holding a lightpen was among a compactor's functions."

"Well, I asked it if it supported the petition, and the control panel gave a positive beep, so I signed it for it," Luke explained.

"Son, this is truly pitiful," Vader said, passing the datapad back. "I have already said no. Move on with your life."

"But—"

"And I believe I said you are banned from my presence."

"But why?"

"Because I am tired of listening to your whining."

"No, I mean why won't you take me? It means a lot to me! It wouldn't hurt you. We wouldn't even need to stay very long—"

Vader let out a weary breath.

"—you could get me through the security, and I'd go in and get the autograph, and then we could go home, and you could go back to being alone."

Vader turned, deciding to head back to his meditation chamber, where he could work in peace. Luke, predictably, followed him.

"It's not as though I'm asking for something for nothing!" Luke said. "I'll earn it! I'll do anything you want."

An idea began to form in Vader's mind. He suddenly turned back to his son, who came to a surprised halt.

"Very well. I was in the ship hangar yesterday, and I noticed you have not done any of your chores."

Luke shrugged, looking aside. "I was meaning to—but I had homework, and then I was watching _Speed Gambit_."

"Then why are you standing here? Go and finish your chores. When you are done with those, the Corellian Sleetster needs cleaning and polishing, the fuel pumps on the Zynanz-L need recalibrating, and you can lube all the doors on the standard-issue speeders. One of them has an irritating squeak."

Luke nodded, eagerly. "And then you'll take me to the technology exhibit tonight?"

"If you do the work to my satisfaction."

Luke grinned and ran off down the corridor. Vader stared after him, sighing with relief. That should keep his son busy for the rest of the day.

* * *

It was an exhausted Luke that went in search of his father, as the late afternoon turned into early evening. Not only had he done everything his father had asked, he'd also cleaned and polished all the astromech droids and repaired a rattling door. It was all very reminiscent of his farmboy days during harvest season. The chores had been quite different, of course, but the feeling of accomplishment was still the same.

The event was due to start in just over an hour, and Luke was feeling restless with anticipation. He ran from room to room, becoming impatient as his search was not rewarded. He was just beginning to wonder if his father had gone over to the detention center, when a patch of black appeared in his peripheral vision.

"Father!"

He ran over and came to a halt outside the doors to the dueling room. His father was clearly about to go in and was holding his lightsaber in his right hand.

"I finished everything. You can go and look if you want."

"You calibrated the fuel pumps?"

Luke nodded.

"And you found the squeaking speeder door?"

"Yes. And I cleaned all the astromech droids."

"Good."

"So are we going to the technology exhibit?" Luke said. "It starts in an hour!"

His father appeared to consider it for a moment, while studying his lightsaber hilt.

"Well?" Luke said, becoming nervous at his father's lack of response.

"I have been thinking about this. I have decided it would be better for you if we did not go. You are already obsessed with this show—this would only encourage it."

Luke could hardly believe what he was hearing. "But ... but we had a deal!"

"I am altering it," his father said, calmly.

"Altering it? You mean you _lied_!?"

"I did not lie. I have simply changed my mind."

Luke blinked, not knowing whether to kick the wall or break down and cry. "This is not fair! You can't just go back on your word like that! I kept up my end! What kind of example is this supposed to set for me?"

"It teaches you not to make deals without collateral," his father said, pointing at him.

"It teaches me that I can't trust my own father! I can't believe you!"

His father finally appeared to be slightly rattled. "Do not look at me with _those_ eyes."

Luke turned away, folding his arms.

"Go and sulk in your room, if you must," his father said, waving him away. "But some day, you will thank me for this. It is time you started living in the real galaxy. Everything is not going to go your way all the time. And I am not going to give in to your every whim just because you whine about it."

With that, his father disappeared into the dueling room, leaving Luke frowning at a closed door. He knew why his father had chosen this room—it was the one room he wouldn't follow him in to. He'd been scared to go in there, ever since his accident.

He turned and trudged off towards the elevator, feeling tired and miserable.

* * *

Vader parried a low attack from his opponent and then side-stepped, causing the droid to spin into a better position. It dodged his response attack and feinted. Vader continued the duel for a few more bouts, before raising a hand and sending the droid falling backwards. He then flicked the off switch, causing it to power down and drop its lightsaber.

He holstered his own lightsaber and turned away. Somehow, his heart just wasn't in it.

It was foolish and sentimental, of course. He shouldn't let Luke affect him like that. The boy was becoming spoiled. He shouldn't have given in and let him sleep in his room the other day—that's probably what started this attitude.

He left the room and made his way to the elevator. Perhaps he should try some meditation—that would get Luke's pleading tone out of his head.

It was ridiculous, really. That meeting some person from a holovid show would be so important to his son. So important that he'd look at him like the galaxy would end if he didn't go.

He'd get over it by next week, Vader reasoned. He would probably be tired of the show by then too.

The elevator beeped and the doors slid open, revealing their private living area. As Vader made his way down the corridor, he couldn't help but pause outside Luke's bedroom, sensing the miserable, disappointed young one inside.

He watched as his hand began to move towards the door release.

_No_ , he argued, _you're letting your own_ _guilt over your absence affect your judgment. Give in to this, and you'll teach the boy that you'll give in to anything. Act like a Sith Lord!_

His hand paused, hovering over the button.

_Do you really want to suffer through a boring evening with company when you could be meditating alone?_

He flexed his fingers a few times.

_What would your master think if he could sense your feelings now?_

Vader turned away, but his hand didn't follow suit.

_What would Obi-Wan have done in this position? For that matter, what would Padmé do?_

Suddenly, he pressed the button and stepped into the room. Luke looked up, surprised.

Their eyes met for a few silent moments, before Vader turned to leave.

"A deal is a deal," he said, gesturing to his son to follow. "Come on."

Luke grinned, jumping eagerly off the bed.

"Thank you thank you thank you thank you!"

* * *

Luke was nearly at the stage of bouncing up and down in the passenger seat, he was so excited.

"This is going to be so great! This reminds me of the last time I met someone famous! On Tatooine, our only competitor in the Imperial Galactic Games came to our school. Biggs and I got his autograph!"

"The _last_ time you met somebody famous?" his father enquired, pulling out of the traffic lane to overtake a speeder.

"You don't count. You're my father. Besides, you're more _infamous_."

"What about the Emperor?"

"He's an ugly old sleemo-corpse," Luke said. "There's the museum!"

His father pulled out of the traffic, diving towards the landing pad. "What have I told you about disrespect towards the Emperor?" he chided, taking one hand off the controls in order to wave a finger in Luke's direction.

"Sorry," Luke said, not sounding particularly contrite. "Do you think I'll be able to meet Bik straight away?"

The speeder was reversed into a parking space and his father cut the engine. "I hope so. After you have his autograph, we are leaving."

"Fine with me," Luke said. He pulled a datapad and light pen out of the glove compartment and tucked them into his belt. "All set." He glanced over at his father, wondering why he hadn't stepped out. He was staring fixedly out the front window.

Luke followed his gaze, seeing there were two people on the edge of the landing pad. They had their backs to them and one appeared to be holding a holocamera.

"Who are they?"

"Media." His father moved to get out of the speeder, and Luke did the same. As his door banged shut, one of the men jumped slightly and turned in surprise. It was Caz Baxter. His father walked over, and Luke followed behind, curious.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite duo!" Caz gushed. "Didn't expect to see you here tonight—what an extreme honor."

"What are you doing?" his father asked.

The camera operator, a Toydarian, turned around in shock, and nearly dropped her holo-recorder at the sound of his father's voice.

Caz pointed over the edge. "Quite a crowd down here—see for yourself. This is going on the next promo for _Speed Gambit_."

Luke walked over eagerly, his father close behind. Far below, a huge crowd had gathered outside the main entrance. Luke was glad for his father's Imperial City VIP parking permit—they'd have a hard time getting anywhere near the building, otherwise. The public landing pads below were a sea of people.

"Not bad, ay?" Caz said. "They're waiting for Bik."

"Is he inside?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, he arrived about an hour ago, in the midst of his usual extreme security ... a bit paranoid, that one, but then who could blame him? Not me."

"I am surprised the museum has not had this crowd dispersed," his father said. "Obstructing public landing pads is illegal in Imperial City."

As if in response to his words, three troop transports came into view, and stormtroopers began pouring out, blasters at the ready. The crowd instantly became a riot, with people screaming and treading on each other in their desperation to get away.

Luke watched in wide-eyed surprise, until his father hastily pulled him back from the edge.

"Come on. I believe we are late."

"You're only late for the opening speeches," Caz said. "They put me to sleep personally—this whole museum puts me to sleep. Now, this, on the other hand," Caz gestured below. "This is going to make great holovid."

Luke watched as his father stretched out a hand, ripping the holo-recorder away from Caz's assistant. Once it reached his hand, he pulled it open and took out the data tape. He then crushed both the recorder and the tape, leaving only a pile of wreckage.

Luke frowned. "What happened to freedom of the media?"

His father turned to him. "The media have the freedom to get out of my vicinity before I kill them for seeing too much."

Caz and his assistant hastily departed for their speeder, leaving Luke sighing in aggravation.

"Come on," Luke said, checking his chrono as he started walking towards the entrance. Hopefully Bik was still there.

Once in the lobby, a bronze protocol droid approached.

"Welcome, Lord Vader and guest. Please proceed down the corridor to your left. Refreshments will be provided shortly."

"Refreshments?" Luke said. "You mean free food?"

"Yes, young sir."

His father quickly pulled him onwards. Once they were out of the droid's hearing range, he leaned down slightly to speak to him. "Luke, try not to act like I starve you. There is no need to act excited about free food. You are fed more than adequately at the palace."

"I know, but I'm hungry," Luke said, rubbing his stomach. "I was too miserable to eat earlier."

The corridor widened ahead, and Luke could see a small crowd gathered in a scattered manner around a stage, where an older man was speaking. As they came closer, Luke caught the last of his words.

"And now, on behalf of the Imperial Museum of Science and Technology, I would like to pronounce this display open!"

Loud applause followed, and the crowd began to disperse to look at the various exhibits. Luke suddenly caught a glimpse of Bik Vorshy, and ducked behind his father.

"Oh stars, there he is!"

"Where?" his father asked.

"By the far wall ... wearing the silver tunic."

"The man with four bodyguards?"

Luke nodded, nervously.

"What are you waiting for? Go and get your autograph."

Luke fidgeted with the datapad, wondering how his father would react if he said he'd changed his mind. He was saved from finding out, however—a uniformed man, who Luke did not recognize, had approached them.

"Good evening, Lord Vader. I didn't expect to see you here tonight."

"I was commandeered by my son." He stepped aside so Luke was visible, and nudged him forward.

"Ah, so this is your young protégé I have heard so much about," the man said, offering his hand to Luke. "It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Luke."

Luke accepted the hand, a little taken aback at the enthusiastic greeting. Important people usually ignored him when he was with his father—but this guy even knew his name. Even better, he actually used it, instead of some invented variation on 'Vader junior'.

He glanced up at his father, hoping he would introduce the man, so Luke could return the favor, but he was now talking with the older person who'd been giving the speech when they'd entered.

"Um," he mumbled, turning back to the man, "my father talks about me?"

"Yes. I apologize—I should have introduced myself. I am Commander Vance Wray, chief engineer of Sienar Fleet Systems."

"So you're the one who's always sending us over those prototype ships to play with?" Luke asked.

Commander Wray laughed. "That's me, all right. You see, us engineers ... most of us have never seen any action in the field. But in order to know what makes a good ship, we need a pilot with some advanced engineering knowledge to test out the prototypes and suggest improvements. That's where your father comes in—he's invaluable to us. I've come in to work on some days to find entire _blueprints_ on my desk after asking him if he had any ideas for improving fuel efficiency. And now, I understand, he's training you to follow in his footsteps."

Luke shrugged. "A little bit. I'm not as good as him, though."

"Seems you've had some good ideas now and then, though," Commander Wray said. "Your father has spoken proudly of them."

Luke blushed, wishing his father wouldn't boast about him to other people. Although, it felt nice to know he was proud—he'd certainly never told him that.

"So what attracted you to this event, Luke?" Commander Wray asked. "Was it the talk of a new miniature hyperdrive motivator? I'm interested to see that myself."

Luke suddenly wished he wasn't wearing his _Speed Gambit_ shirt. "Ah ... yes, among other things."

"Well, I must go and look at the exhibits. It was a pleasure speaking with you, Luke—if you ever want a tour of Sienar Fleet Systems, drop me a message and I'll arrange it."

"Thanks," Luke said, grinning. "I'd love that—and it was nice to meet you, too."

Commander Wray smiled at him, and then disappeared off into the rows of displays.

Luke scanned the room until he found his father, and made his way over to him. As he came closer, he found his father was looking at a small, holographic projection of himself. When Luke walked up beside him, he appeared on the projector as well.

"Wow," Luke said, leaning closer to inspect it. "That's a full color hologram—with no distortion!"

"It requires hundreds of scanners," his father said, gesturing at the side of the display, which was coated completely with hologram converters. "Somewhat inefficient."

"Looks great though," Luke said. "I wouldn't mind one for my bedroom ... I get sick of looking at blue people all the time. Who decided holograms should be blue, anyway?"

His father shifted on to the next display, and Luke followed. On the way, he took a quick glance around to see where Bik Vorshy was now.

He wasn't hard to spot. Over on the other side of the room, speaking with someone else. He was still completely surrounded by the grim bodyguards.

"This is fascinating."

Luke turned to the new display, curious as to what would incite a rare display of emotion from his father. It was a scale model of a new ship design. The engines were placed in front and hooked to the cockpit by a couple of tow cables.

"Looks like a rip-off of a podracer to me," Luke said.

"Inspired by the design, yes," his father said, picking up the accompanying thesis. "But adapted to space travel."

"I preferred the hologram," Luke said. He glanced back at Bik again, seeing he wasn't talking to anyone now. He could go over and ask him for an autograph ... he _could_ , so why didn't he? What was making him so shy? He wasn't normally like this.

"Can we go now?" Luke asked, suddenly, deciding he'd rather leave. Meeting Bik had been a good idea, but somehow he'd lost his nerve. Better just to go now, rather than torture himself over it all evening.

"After I have finished looking at this," his father said, distantly.

Luke glanced at the thesis. Judging by the size of the databook holding the information, it was very long and very detailed.

"They'll probably give you that one to take home if you ask," Luke said, frustrated.

His father glanced at him. "Did you get your autograph?"

Luke looked at the floor. "No," he mumbled.

"Why not?"

"I don't know." Luke glanced over at Bik. "I'm a little shy, I guess. He's a big holovid star and I'm just ... me."

"Luke, after whining at me for a week to come to this event, you better go and get something."

"But what if he thinks I'm weird? Or he thinks I'm some crazy fan?"

"I am sure you will find him cooperative," his father reassured him. "People like him depend on their admirers for their continued employment."

Luke considered it. Maybe his father was right. After all, Bik must have met thousands of fans. He'd be used to it.

"Okay, I'm going," Luke said, taking a deep breath.

* * *

Vader was surprised when he happened to catch sight of a chronometer. Nearly forty minutes had passed since he'd last seen his son.

It wasn't surprising he had lost track of the time, however—he was distracted with this surprisingly innovative ship design. He hadn't expected to see anything of this expertise. Even more surprising was the designer, who turned out to be a young graduate student from the First University of Coruscant. After the museum curator had introduced them, they had quickly started talking engineering.

Commander Wray approached them, interrupting the student's description of the cooling systems.

"Ah, the ship design everyone is talking about! I've been saving this until last."

Vader scanned the room briefly, becoming concerned when he could not locate Luke.

"Commander, have you seen my son?" Vader enquired.

"I saw him leaving a while ago, actually. He seemed in a hurry."

"Leaving?" Vader turned to go and investigate, discarding the thesis. Most likely, his son had found the refreshments and was making the most of them, but he would still like to be sure, just to allay some of his nagging parental fears.

He followed his sense of Luke's presence across the exhibit hall, and into the main reception lobby of the museum. It was somewhat deserted here, with just a few chatting guests and stormtroopers guarding the doors. No sign of his son, however.

Vader began to feel nervous, hoping his son hadn't decided to go exploring. If he had become lost, he could follow the exit signs and end up in the middle of that riot on the public landing pad.

Vader moved faster, turning his head from side to side quickly, attempting to pinpoint Luke's location. The trail led him through an expansive hall full of reassembled skeletons, a vast holographic display of ancient Coruscant, and down a corridor lined with antique droids. At any other time, he'd have paused to look, but locating his son was more important right now.

His search was rewarded when he stepped into a room with a vast, domed ceiling, which was constructed to resemble the night sky of Coruscant. Luke stood in the middle, listening to an educational holographic display about Tatooine.

"Luke?!"

Luke turned, surprised.

"What are you doing in here?"

Luke shrugged. "Just thought I'd see what else was here, that's all. Look, it will tell you about any planet in the galaxy."

Vader switched off the display, which was about to start describing Tusken Raiders. He could sense something was wrong with his son.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Luke said. He turned away, pretending to gaze at the ceiling. The datapad and lightpen were hanging untouched from his belt. "Can we go home now?"

"Did you get your autograph?"

"It doesn't matter," Luke said.

"Yes, it does. What happened?"

Luke sighed and reluctantly turned to face him. "He said ... he said he charges fifty credits for autographs. And he said he doesn't sign datapads— only licensed merchandise."

"What?!" Vader felt the loose grip he had on his temper vanish in a heartbeat. He had endured much over this stupid HoloNet show. This was beyond belief.

He swiftly turned, heading back to the technology exhibit hall.

"Father, no!" Luke yelled. "Wait!"

Vader ignored him. He clenched his hands together as he walked, in anticipation of some imminent asphyxiation.

On the way, he nearly bumped into the protocol droid, who was carrying a tray out of a nearby room.

"Excuse me, sir."

"Where is this HoloNet actor?" Vader asked. "The one named Bik Vorshy?"

The droid gestured at the room it had just left. "In there, sir."

Vader pushed the droid aside and entered the room. He was there all right ... drinking some expensive alcoholic beverage and enclosed in bodyguards, as though he were the most important person in the galaxy.

"Did you find your son, sir?"

Vader turned. Commander Wray was standing nearby, eating a biscuit.

Luke burst into the room behind him, saving him from answering. "Father, don't! Please!"

Bik Vorshy, his bodyguards, and Commander Wray all turned to stare at the sound of Luke's shout. Fortunately, they were the only occupants of the room.

Vader ignored his son's pleas, and instead spoke to Commander Wray. "I am about to do something I do not want my son to witness. Take him outside, and see that he stays there."

The commander nodded instantly and hastily moved to comply. Luke protested until the closing of the door cut off his words.

Vader turned and walked determinedly towards Bik Vorshy. As he came closer, the four, muscular bodyguards blocked his path.

He simply folded his arms and stared at them. They stared back, for a brief instant, and then they ran for their lives.

He was left with the object of his displeasure, who dropped his glass in fright. It shattered against the floor, causing glass to crunch under Vader's boots as he stepped closer and used the Force to raise the man to his eye level. He held a partial grip on his throat—tight enough to let him know he could kill him at the mere whim, but loose enough to keep him alive, for now.

"Mr Vorshy?"

The man shook his head until Vader squeezed slightly, and then he quickly nodded.

"For some reason unfathomable to me, my son watches your mindless entertainment product religiously. Is it unreasonable to expect you to repay the favor by taking a few seconds of your time to sign an autograph?"

The man didn't reply, so Vader tightened his grip momentarily.

"Is it?" he repeated.

"No ... Lord ...Vader ... sir."

* * *

"Why does he have to embarrass me like this?!" Luke moaned, pacing up and down in the corridor.

Commander Wray stood beside the door, watching him carefully for any attempt to re-enter the room.

"What did the poor man do?" he asked.

"I just wanted him to autograph my datapad. He said he only signs licensed merchandise, and I'd have to pay!"

"Did you tell him you were Lord Vader's son?"

"No! I'm not a name dropper!"

Commander Wray sighed. "Well, I hope he has a twin brother, or there's going to be a lot of disappointed fans out there."

"What do you mean?" Luke asked, turning to look at him. "He wouldn't hurt him!"

Commander Wray was about to reply, when the doors slid open, inviting them to enter. Luke skidded into the room, seeing his father was standing next to Bik.

"Father!"

"Son. Your friend here—" he pushed Bik forward slightly, "—has just agreed to provide you with a complimentary autograph."

The man nodded, looking slightly queasy.

"He has also agreed to answer all your questions, no matter how inane and technical."

"Absolutely," Bik said, faintly.

"I will wait outside," Vader said. As he walked past Luke, he had to fight the urge to smile to himself, in response to the somewhat disagreeable way in which his son was glaring at him.

* * *

"I can't _believe_ you did that," Luke complained, for the tenth time since they'd started their journey home.

"Did what, son?" Vader asked, shifting the speeder into the fast lane. "I merely explained to the man why he should give you his autograph."

"You _know_ what I mean," Luke said, glaring at him.

"Unfortunately, my young, naive son, _that_ is the only way to deal with people like Mr Vorshy. Besides, you got your autograph."

Luke studied the datapad. "Yeah. He was actually really nice after you left. He said he really pitied me. I don't know why."

Vader pulled out of the traffic lane and guided the speeder down into the hangar bay. He reversed it into a space and cut the engine.

"Although," Luke said, as he undid his seat restraints, "I think I'm going to give this datapad away. Maybe I could donate it to one of those people who were arrested on the public landing pad."

"You mean you are not going to encase it in a diamond display cabinet?" Vader asked, with a tone of sarcastic surprise.

"No," Luke said, climbing out of the speeder. "I don't know ... the show has really been demystified for me, now."

Vader joined Luke, and they made their way to the elevators.

"After Bik answered all my questions, everything started to seem fake! It's all done with droid doubles and holographic-reconstructions. They don't really go to all those places—it's all recorded right here on Coruscant. And Bik said he doesn't even have a current speeder license, never mind know how to fly a podracer."

"Were you under the impression it was real?" Vader asked, entering the elevator.

"No," Luke said, stepping in beside his father. "I don't know ... maybe it's not that at all. The show has taken a bad turn recently ... ever since Velos and Seety got together. Now it's all about their romance, instead of the racing and explosions."

_Thank the Force_ , Vader thought. With Luke's next words, he realized his relief was too soon, however.

"I'd rather just read the library book I found about podracing. It's more fun to find out about the real thing. You know racers used to die all the time? And often there were no rules, so people just used to cheat and ..."

Vader tuned out Luke's chatter, thinking back to his own podracing days. _Not his_ , he reminded himself. Anakin Skywalker's podracing days.

It was really time he put that past to rest, once and for all.

"Luke," he interrupted, as they stepped out of the elevator, "there is something I want to give you."

"You got some more merchandise?"

"No. This is ... an heirloom."

* * *

Luke was packing some of his _Speed Gambit_ merchandise away into his closet, when his father entered his room. He looked up, curious as to what his father was going to give him. He was carrying a folded sheet of blue and white material.

"This was given to me while I was living on Tatooine," he explained, handing it to Luke.

Luke unfolded it, studying the blue and white pattern. "A flag?" Luke enquired.

"A podracer's flag."

"You mean a _real life_ podracer?!"

"Yes. There were no droid doubles or holographic reconstructions involved. Although he was too young to hold a speeder license, he certainly knew how to fly a podracer. Enjoy it." His father turned to leave.

"Wait!" Luke said. "What was the podracer's name? Maybe he's in my book."

His father was silent for a long moment, before finally answering. "I no longer remember."

"Oh," Luke said, disappointed. He then brightened up, seeing a newly cleared blank area on his wall, where he'd just removed one of his _Speed Gambit_ holo-pictures. "I think I'll hang it right here."

"One of the few clear areas left," his father said. "Everywhere I turn, there is junk."

"It's not all junk!" Luke insisted, pinning the flag against the wall. "It's just bits and pieces I've collected."

"What is the purpose of this?" his father asked.

Luke turned, and found his father holding a certain doll, which happened to be hanging upside down from the center of his ceiling.

Luke froze. "Ah ... that's just ... ignore that, it's not important."

His hesitation caused his father to give it closer inspection. "This almost looks like ..." he started, idly.

Luke felt a sudden darkening in his father's mood. He detached the figure from the string and looked up to meet Luke's gaze.

"It's not what you're thinking!" Luke said, stepping backwards and bumping into the wall. "That's not the Emperor—it's someone else."

"Then why does it say 'Emperor Palpatine—official Imperial merchandise' on the bottom?"

"Misprint?" Luke suggested, smirking. His smile soon faded as his father continued to glare at him.

"It was just a joke!" Luke said. "I'm not in trouble, right?"

"Only if you do not consider having your HoloNet access cut for a week being in trouble."

Luke frowned for a moment, before accepting it. It was a small price to pay for the fun he'd had torturing that action figure. "Okay. But why don't they make one of those figures of you? I think you'd make a good toy—I'd buy lots of them!"

"I think I will make that two weeks," his father said, pointing at him.

"Not fair!" Luke protested. "That was a compliment!"

"You are pushing for three."

Luke sulked for a moment, until his father reached over to ruffle his hair. "Goodnight, Son."

Luke tried to resist, but he couldn't help but break into a grin. Displays of affection were all too rare from his father. He couldn't help but smile at the strange times he decided to show it.

"Thanks for taking me tonight," Luke said. "Sorry about the nagging, the whining and the illegal petition."

"You are welcome. In all truth, I think I had more enjoyment from the experience than you."

"I noticed," Luke said. He looked down at his father's hand, which was still holding the action figure.

"Can I at least have my Emperor doll back?" Luke asked.

"Goodnight, Son," his father repeated, turning to leave the room.

"I'll be nice to it!"

His father paused, and glanced back at him. "I will give it back to you, in two weeks, on one condition. That you provide the Emperor with a likeness of yourself for him to play with."

Luke held up his hands in shock. "Pass!"

"I thought so."

* * *


	3. A Force Bond Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Luke and Vader's first Christmas together, and Luke is dreaming of a Christmas just like he used to celebrate on Tatooine. But Christmas with a Sith Lord isn't all that simple ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've used 'Christmas' in this fic as a translation of whatever they would call their Christmas-like holiday in the Star Wars galaxy. The Life Day thing just reminds me of the travesty of the Star Wars holiday special, and if you've never heard Artoo and Threepio's Christmas album featuring Jon Bon Jovi (yes that was the type of Star Wars gold we had back in the 80s) you're missing out. It's on YouTube. 'Artoo Detoo, We Wish You A Merry Christmas' would make a good theme song for this fic.

"Just ... a ... bit ... further ..." Luke mumbled to himself, stretching his arms as far as they would reach. If only he was just a few centimeters taller. A few centimeters wasn't so much to ask! Especially considering his father had height to spare.

He shifted his gaze between the end of the sparkling tinsel chain in his hand, and the spot on the ceiling just above the elevator doors, where he was determined to affix it. His height wasn't going to stop him this time. This particular ornament was the final touch, on what he had to admit was a decorating masterpiece. Threepio and Artoo had helped him turn the previously dark and foreboding corridor into a glowing, sparkling, _shimmering_ tribute to the festive season.

There was holly, mistletoe and colored lights. There were mini-holoprojectors, causing ever-changing dimensional patterns to glow from every reflective surface. Of which there were a lot, given the tinsel and baubles hung from every available surface. Some people might say it was all a little too much, but Luke knew those were people who had not seen the corridor in its usual state. Now _that_ was too much.

If only he could get this last decoration in place, his work of art would be complete. Luke looked down at the stepladder in frustration. It needed an extra step.

"It's not fair, Artoo," he said to his watching companion. "I'm never tall enough."

Artoo whistled knowingly.

Luke studied the inadequate object for a moment, before getting an idea. He jumped off and ran to his bedroom and returned a minute later with another chair.

Artoo whistled questioningly as Luke stacked it up on top of the ladder, and finished with a disapproving beep.

"Relax, Artoo," Luke said. "I can balance."

He climbed back up, and placed a foot tentatively on the somewhat shaky chair.

"See," he said, placing his full weight on it. "It's fine."

Artoo's reply didn't sound nearly so confident.

Luke steadied himself against the top of the elevator, and reached across to pick up the end of the tinsel.

"Now I'll just stick ... it ... on ..."

Luke leaned ever closer to the desired target, while the chair he was balanced on creaked under the strain.

"Nearly ... nearly ..." Luke mumbled under his breath.

A bright light lit up in Luke's face, and a soft chime sounded. It took Luke a second to place it, given that the entire corridor was currently glowing. But this wasn't the result of anything he'd engineered—someone had arrived in the elevator! The elevator he just happened to be balanced precariously in front of ...

"No!" Luke yelled. "Wait! WAIT!"

His shouts were a second too late. The mere vibration of the door sliding across was enough energy to send him and the chair, crashing towards the floor. Artoo made an ear-splitting screech as Luke tumbled head-first towards the floor, flailing his arms desperately.

Before he smashed into the floor, he felt his descent slow. He still hit the ground with a bump, but it was as if he had bounced on a stack of downy cushions. The reason for this failure of the laws of nature soon became clear as he rolled over into a sitting position. His father was looking down at him. Even though he was wearing a mask, Luke could still tell he was glaring. Funny how that happened, sometimes ...

"What in the spinning _galaxy_ do you think you're _doing_!?"

"Decorating!" Luke said, grinning.

"You could have been seriously injured! You are fortunate you haven't broken your neck!" His father paused in his rant. "Decorating?"

Luke nodded.

Then his father turned slightly and saw the corridor, in all its festive glory. Luke had never seen him simply freeze like that before. It was a full ten seconds before he spoke.

"What ...?" His breathing became rapid. "What have you _done_?!"

"Isn't it _awesome_?!" Luke said, from the floor.

His father didn't reply. He simply stared at the walls, seemingly transfixed.

Luke hauled himself back to his feet and began to pick up the scattered books. "I can't reach to get this last bit of tinsel up, though. Would you mind?"

Luke offered the dangling loose end to his father, but he still hadn't moved from staring at the corridor. Luke began to wonder if he had gone into shock. Maybe he should try tugging on his cape. He'd always wanted to, ever since he'd known his father.

After another few moments had passed, his father finally spoke. "Take it down," he said, in a quiet, dangerous tone. "All of it."

"But ... but this took me _hours_!" Luke said, shocked.

"I do not care if it took you a lifetime. I am going to my meditation chamber—if I can find it in this perverted excuse for a corridor. By the time I come out I expect every last ... monstrosity taken down and sent to the trash compactor where it belongs."

Luke quickly felt his temper flaring up. "But it's Christmas!"

"Sith Lords do not celebrate Christmas."

"Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen would have loved it!" Luke yelled, before running for his room. He was too disappointed, and too frustrated to stand there and argue any longer.

* * *

Vader was left staring after his son in surprise. It wasn't often he heard those particular names—Owen and Beru. In all the drama that had occurred over the last year, it was easy to forget they had raised his son for far longer than he had. He breathed in and out slowly, surprised at how much his son's shouted remark had affected him. It was the first time he had ever heard Luke make a direct negative comparison between his and his former guardian's parenting skills.

 _What parenting skills_ , Vader thought, somewhat regretfully.

He stalked off to his meditation chamber, trying to ignore the eyesore that assaulted him from every angle. Perhaps a few hours peace would give him the strength to face this situation with an open mind.

Once he found the correct door and stepped into the room, he let out a relieved breath at the sight of clear, black walls. This was how every room should look. Neat and orderly. He turned to enter the meditation chamber, and then stopped short. There was a sparkling green wreath hung on the jaws.

He shut his eyes, and let the anger flow into the Force. Shortly afterwards, he reopened them, and blinked in surprise. There was nothing there.

Only his son would have the decorating skills to cause him to hallucinate.

* * *

After two hours of fragmented mediation, Vader came to the conclusion that he was wasting his time. He was still angry over the mess in the corridor, and felt even less compromising than he had earlier. But he couldn't leave this any longer—Luke was miserable, and when his son was miserable, the Force itself was in disarray.

He had to go and straighten this out.

As he stood up, he braced himself for the sight in the corridor. All hopes of it not being as bad the second time around disappeared as soon as the doors slid open. This truly was a nightmare.

He quickly made his way over to his son's bedroom, and pressed the door release. There was no relief for him inside, though. The 'decorating' extended into his son's bedroom.

Luke was sitting on his bed and concentrating intently on a holo-comic projected by a small databook. He didn't spare him a glance.

Vader stepped over the piles of junk covering the floor, and sat down next to his son. He decided to get straight to the point—he was never one for avoiding the issue.

"Son, I will be honest with you. I hate your decorating. It makes me feel physically ill. However, I will tolerate it until noon on the day after Christmas. Agreed?"

Luke looked up at his father, incredulous. "Is that your idea of apologizing?"

"No. It is my idea of compromising. If anything, you should apologize for decorating our mutual living space without consulting me first."

"I thought I'd surprise you," Luke explained.

"You certainly did that," Vader sighed.

Luke smirked, and put the holo-comic aside. "I guess I didn't really think it through. I was just so excited ... I love Christmas. It makes me feel like a kid again."

"You are still a child," Vader said.

"Besides," Luke said, ignoring him, "it's my first Christmas with you."

Vader studied his son, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Tell me, son," he said, eventually. "How did you used to celebrate with your aunt and uncle?" He should at least find out what his son's expectations were, before letting him down.

"Well," Luke said, "we used to get together for a big party with the other farmers in the region, in the week before Christmas. Windy and I used to stay up past midnight, because the adults were too busy talking to notice the time. And sometimes I'd go with Biggs' family to a nighttime carol sing-a-long in Anchorhead ... those candles sure attracted a lot of insects. I used to get bitten like crazy! But it was worth it. People who spent the entire year grumbling at us were suddenly friendly. One of my teachers actually hugged me once! A little gross, but nice, all the same."

Vader remained silent, long forgotten memories of his own childhood Christmases stirred up.

"Aunt Beru always used to make this yummy dessert," Luke continued. "Uncle Owen and I used to fight for the last slice. And I'd always be searching the house for weeks before, trying to find my presents, but Aunt Beru was way too good for me. I still don't know where she managed to hide those presents ... she just told me the Sandman brought them, even when I was too old to believe in that. Uncle Owen said someone should write to the Sandman and tell him that he really doesn't like socks, but nothing ever seemed to come of that. Oh yeah—and Aunt Beru had a rule—no present opening before dawn. So I used to get up ten minutes before dawn and wait for the first sun to appear over the horizon.

"I remember this one year," Luke said, his face lighting up. "I got a remote controlled toy speeder! No one else had one like it! Everyone was begging me for a turn to play with it! Unfortunately, it was broken a few weeks later ... I never did get around to fixing it ..."

Luke glanced over at his father. "What's the best present you ever got?" he prompted.

A vague image began to coalesce in Vader's mind. Padmé's face. _Ani ... I'm pregnant._ The words echoed in Vader's mind, as if from another lifetime.

He gradually refocused on Luke. "I don't remember," he said, vaguely. He watched his son for another minute, trying to return to the issue at hand. "You must miss your aunt and uncle very much at this time of the year," he said, eventually.

Luke nodded, looking away. "I'm happy to be with you. I don't want to be anywhere else, but ... those were good times."

Vader felt bad for his son. All his intentions of telling Luke that he would not be celebrating Christmas disappeared with one glance at Luke's wistful expression.

"I will be busy," Vader said. "The Empire does not go on vacation. However, I will endeavor to see that we spend some time together over the holiday season. Perhaps we could go for a flight somewhere."

Luke gaped at him. "You mean a _real_ flight! Into _space_?"

Vader couldn't help but marvel at how easy his son was to please. He could hardly have been happier if he'd suggested giving him a billion credit trust fund.

"Yes."

"You mean it?! Is that a _promise_!?"

Vader gazed into Luke's bright, eager gaze, and wondered whether the Emperor himself could have said no to such eyes. "Very well."

"Wow! I can't wait!"

"On the condition that I don't find any more decorations," Vader said, standing up.

"Whatever you say."

"Now that makes a nice change," Vader said, pointing at his son.

"Hey, that reminds me," Luke said, picking up a nearby datapad and handing it to Vader. "That's my Christmas present for you. It's a contract—I'll do whatever you say for one whole day."

Vader accepted the datapad, somewhat surprised. He hadn't received a present from anyone in Force knows how long. Normally, he wouldn't have accepted it, but this sounded too good an opportunity to miss. "Very well. You can clean up your room for a start."

"Okay," Luke said, "but are you sure you want to redeem it today? You might want to save it for a day when you really want me to do something."

"Good thinking," Vader admitted. "I will save it for a later occasion."

"Keep in mind that if unused, it expires at the end of the month," Luke said, with a grin. "And it is only redeemable between midday and midnight of a single day. It's all right there in the fine print."

"I will study it at my leisure," Vader said, somewhat bemused at the work his son had put into this gift.

Christmas clearly had a strange effect on Luke.

* * *

The days soon passed, and Vader, despite himself, was even starting to get used to the decorations. Everyone seemed to become happier at this time of year, despite how dreary their lives were, and the positive energy was having an effect on Vader. He tried to resist it, but it was a lot of work to stay completely cynical in this environment.

That turned out to be a critical mistake, though.

It was two days before Christmas when everything suddenly changed. It started much like any other day on Coruscant, with a call to report to his master.

He went up to the office tower immediately, and after the initial greetings were over, he waited to hear his master's request.

"I received a very interesting report today, Lord Vader," the Emperor said, leaning back in his chair.

Vader remained silent, waiting to be further enlightened.

"It seems one of our small weapons research facilities has made a breakthrough. Nothing too significant, but there is a chance this could be most valuable in the future. I want you to pay this facility a visit. Make copies of all the work they have completed, and then dispose of the buildings and personnel."

"Where is this facility located, Master?" Vader asked.

"On Hadros Second. It is uninhabited, apart from the facility. You will find all the petty details in the files. Leave as soon as possible—tonight at the latest. I want this research secure. The longer it sits in these scientist's hands, the greater the possibility that one will give in and sell it to another interested party."

"Understood, Master," Vader said.

On the inside, his thoughts were churning. The Hadros system was at the edge of the Outer Rim, and he would need to take a craft large enough to hold the heavy munitions required to destroy the facility. Such a craft would take a day to make the journey, meaning he would be gone three days at the absolute minimum. Luke would be devastated to be abandoned like this, yet taking him with him was absolutely out of the question. He couldn't expose a child to the grim task his master expected of him.

Leaving him here didn't sit well either. The staff at the Imperial Palace operated on a skeleton crew over the holiday period. Only the royal guard would remain. A bored and resentful Luke could get up to all kinds of mischief in that situation. Perhaps he could suggest he stay with his friend.

His master picked up on his distraction.

"Is there a problem, Lord Vader?"

"No, my master."

His master looked at him in the way he did when he could easily tell he was hiding something, and then he nodded. "Of course. Young Skywalker should not be left alone. He is of course welcome to stay up here in one of the royal guest suites. I really should speak with him more often."

"Thank you, my master," Vader said, secretly imagining Luke's face if he so much as suggested that. "I will keep it in mind."

He took his time returning to the lower levels, despite the Emperor's instructions to leave as soon as possible. He needed time to consider the best way to break this news to his son. Normally, he would have taken the direct approach, as he always did, but this time, he wasn't so confident it would work.

However, if he was going to arrange a place for Luke to stay before he left, he needed to get this unpleasant task over and done with.

After following his sense of his son, he found Luke in the ship hangar, polishing a luxury pleasure craft with the assistance of his two droids. He approached with determination, bracing himself.

"Hi!" Luke said, when he heard his approach. "I've decided which ship we're taking when we go for the flight! It's beautiful, huh?"

Vader gazed at the ship, blankly. It certainly was a fine ship, and Luke had clearly put much work into it.

"Yes," Vader said. "About that ..." he broke off, trying to recall what he had planned to say.

Luke stared at him, tossing the polishing cloth from one hand to the other. "What?" he finally prompted. "You're not backing out, are you?"

"No. I will still take you for a flight. However, it will have to wait until after Christmas."

"Oh," Luke said, looking mildly disappointed. It only lasted a moment, though. "That's okay," he added. "As long as we go. Are we doing something else on Christmas Day? Did a long lost cousin call and invite us to—"

Vader held up a hand. "Nothing like that."

Luke frowned slightly. "What, then?"

Vader let out a heavy sigh, knowing that this wasn't going to go down well.

"I have to go on an urgent mission."

Luke's eyes grew wide with surprise.

"So pressing it cannot wait until after Christmas," Vader added, quickly. "There is some research of utmost importance to the Empire, at the scientific lab on Hadros Second. I must go and collect it. I know this is disappointing for you, but I also know you are old enough and mature enough to understand that the needs of the Empire are more important than your feelings."

"But ..." Luke looked at the floor. "It's ... it's our first Christmas together."

The heart-breaking tone was almost enough to cause Vader to go back to the Emperor and tell him to forget the whole thing. But he soon regained his senses.

"I am sorry, but I have no choice about this. We can spend some time together when I return. In the meantime, we must find somewhere for you to stay."

"What's wrong with here?" Luke asked, in a subdued voice.

"This mission may take anything up to a week," Vader explained, carefully. "I would not feel comfortable leaving you alone for so long when the palace assistants are on leave and you have no school to distract you."

"But I'm nearly thirteen!" Luke protested, tossing his polishing cloth away. It landed on Artoo's dome, which caused the droid to whistle in annoyance.

"Why don't you ask your spineless friend if you can stay with him?"

"If I can't spend Christmas with you, I'm not spending it with anyone," Luke said, suddenly stubborn. He folded his arms. "I'd rather be alone. Besides, Ben has already left. He and his father are spending Christmas with his uncle."

"If you cannot stay with a friend, you will have to move upstairs where the royal aides can keep an eye on you," Vader said, easily matching Luke's stubborn tone. "The Emperor has offered to have you as a guest in the royal suites."

Luke reared back in shock, and then looked around desperately, as if he were drowning and looking for a life jacket.

"But there are adults here!" Luke insisted, pointing up at a security window.

Vader followed his son's gesture, and found himself looking at a royal guard. For some reason, it didn't quite put his mind at ease.

"Absolutely not. They are security staff, not babysitters."

"We'll be fine!" Luke insisted. "Besides, there's also Artoo."

Artoo rolled up and beeped in agreement.

Vader stared down, not convinced by the innocent noises. "That droid gets into more trouble than you," he said, derisively.

"What about ... what about _Threepio_?!" Luke said, dragging the golden droid forward. "He's responsible! Come on, you can't leave me with the Emperor!"

"Why, I'm flattered Master Luke—"

Artoo made a rude noise in disgust.

"I am so responsible!" Threepio argued. "Far more than you will ever be, you pile of rusty circuits!"

Vader released a slow, weary breath, and considered the situation. His son was right, Threepio was a trustworthy droid. He usually trusted the two droids to keep an eye on Luke, and if he had to leave his son in the care of a droid, Threepio would be his first choice. He shifted his gaze from the droid, back to his son, who was staring at him with pleading eyes.

"We can call you every few hours," Luke said. "Just so you know I'm okay. Please, don't make me stay with the Emperor! This is bad enough without making it worse."

Vader could feel himself being softened by Luke's pleas, and he felt helpless to stop it. But, after all, how much trouble could a twelve-year-old get into over Christmas? Even a twelve-year-old Skywalker?

"Very well," he said, finally. "But in exchange, you must promise me you will be on your best behavior."

"I'm always on my best behavior," Luke said, indignantly.

"That isn't reassuring, Son."

Luke glanced back at the gleaming ship, sadly. "Can't we just go for a quick flight before you leave?"

"You will enjoy it more if we wait until I get back," Vader said. "Besides, I have much to do before I leave tonight. I am going to write a new subroutine for Threepio, so he can watch after you more effectively."

"You're not going to turn him into _you_ , are you?" Luke asked, nervously.

"Of course not," Vader replied, beckoning to the droid. "Come, Threepio."

Artoo gave a lone, sad whistle as Threepio was led away.

* * *

As the morning turned into afternoon, and the afternoon turned into early evening, even Luke was starting to get worried about the protocol droid. Threepio and his father had been shut away in a workshop for hours. Whatever his father was doing, it had to be big.

"Don't worry, Artoo, I'm sure he's okay," Luke said, hoping to reassure the agitated astromech unit, buzzing around his bedroom.

Artoo's whistled reply didn't sound like an agreement.

"Maybe we should go see what he's up to," Luke said, getting up off his bed.

Artoo rolled toward the door, well ahead of Luke. When Luke caught up with him, out in the corridor, it was soon clear their worries were unfounded. Threepio was walking down the corridor, followed by his father.

Artoo whistled in greeting, and then beeped out a question.

"Yes, of course I'm fine," Threepio said. "I only wish I could say the same for you."

Artoo whistled, happily.

"Well, I see you didn't destroy his personality," Luke said.

"Of course not," his father said. "I was repairing droids when I was younger than you. Now, make yourself useful and go and run through the pre-flight warm-up on the shuttle."

Luke nodded sadly and ran off down the corridor, dodging trailing decorations as he went. Threepio and Artoo rattled along behind, still arguing. Artoo was clearly trying to figure out exactly how Threepio had been changed. Luke was curious himself, but that would have to wait until later.

Once in the hangar, he located a shuttle and quickly ran through the pre-flight routines. The fuel was at maximum, and all systems were running at peak efficiency. The passenger lounge was well stocked, with survival gear and emergency rations. Even the comm unit was in perfect working order.

After he had completed the checklist, Luke returned to the pilot's seat and flopped down with an audible sigh. He leaned back, desperately wishing he was going with his father. He'd never been without family at Christmas before. And this one was special ... his first Christmas since finding out his father wasn't dead, as he'd always been told. His first Christmas with his father, and they'd be spending it light years apart.

"Luke?"

Luke turned and reluctantly left the pilot's seat. He made his way down the boarding ramp, where his father was waiting.

"It's all ready," Luke said, with a heavy sigh.

"Good. Now, Threepio has a list of all my contact details, and I have also left them on a datapad in your room. I will call you every day to make sure you are safe."

Luke nodded, automatically.

"If anything should go wrong, and you cannot contact me, one of the royal aides will assist. Threepio also has your doctor's contact details."

Luke nodded again, looking at his feet.

"I have told Threepio to make sure you get to bed on time and eat regular meals. I expect you to listen to him."

"Sure," Luke mumbled.

His father then handed him a small gray rectangular object. "You can use this to buy yourself some presents."

Luke realized it was a credit tab. His eyes widened at the figure. "Really?! That much?"

"Is that not enough?" his father asked, confused. "I am too busy to keep track of what things cost."

"Ah ... no, no it's fine," Luke said, hastily pocketing it. "Um ... what's the earliest you will be back?"

"The day after Christmas. If all goes to plan, I will see you then."

"Okay," Luke said, wishing he could hug his father goodbye. He had a feeling his father wouldn't appreciate it, though. "Um ... have a nice trip."

His father briefly placed a hand on his shoulder, and then moved up the ramp. Luke shifted back against the far wall, in anticipation of the engines igniting. A minute later, the walls began to vibrate as the shuttle hummed into life. It rose up off the floor, and reversed around until it was facing the hangar bay exit.

Luke waved, even though he doubted his father was watching. Shortly afterwards, the engines lit up, and the force field across the exit shimmered as the shuttle passed through.

Then he was alone.

It was a long time before Artoo finally convinced Luke to leave the ship hangar. He followed his droid back to his bedroom, wondering vaguely how he was going to occupy himself. As he walked down the final corridor, he reached out to tear down some of the decorations. It just didn't _feel_ like Christmas anymore. The Emperor had taken it from him.

In his bedroom, he lay on the floor in front of the HoloNet projector, and stared listlessly at the ceiling. Three whole days until his father returned. It was already dragging ...

Artoo made a questioning beep, and then rolled up to his side, carrying the remote. Luke accepted it reluctantly and switched on the projector. Maybe that's how he could fill his time. Watching holovid for three days straight. It had to set some kind of record, at least.

A short time later, his bedroom doors opened, and Threepio entered, carrying a tray.

"I brought your dinner, Master Luke."

"Thanks, Threepio," Luke said, standing up to take it. He studied the plate for a moment, and then screwed up his nose. "Ew! Stringy vegetables!" He picked up the fork and poked at the dull green knotted heap, as if to make sure it was dead.

"It contains seventy percent of your daily vitamin needs."

Luke stared at Threepio for a moment. "Riiiight," he said, finally, putting the tray down. "I'm really not that hungry right now, though. Maybe I'll eat it later."

Threepio suddenly stiffened and began looking from side to side.

"What's wrong?" Luke asked, concerned.

"No appetite! Oh dear! It might be Ithorian Flu! I must call your doctor!"

"Hold on!" Luke said, hastily picking up the tray. "I'm eating it see!" He made an attempt to swallow some of the bland vegetable, hoping it would look convincing.

"I must call your doctor at the first sign of any illness!" Threepio repeated, already heading for the holocom.

"No!" Luke quickly ran to stop him. "Artoo, can you do something? He's stuck in a subroutine."

Artoo rolled forward, dutifully, and managed to act as a barrier.

"Get out of my way you stupid—"

Artoo interrupted with a flurry of whistles.

"Threepio, I'm fine," Luke added. "See! I'm healthy." Luke tried to swallow another mouthful. Unfortunately, it was so bland, he ended up spitting it out.

"Oh no! You could suffer from malnutrition!"

Luke frowned, deciding it was time for drastic measures. He stood up and reached for Threepio's off switch. He flicked it once. He flicked it twice. Nothing happened.

"Blast it, he's overridden the switch!" Luke complained.

Artoo whistled and then extended one of his tools.

"No, that's a little drastic," Luke said. "I've got another idea. Threepio, I'm going to go into the refresher to eat my food. See?" Luke entered the adjoining refresher, plate in hand. Once there, he scraped all the food into the trash chute. He waited five minutes, and then returned.

"See," he said, showing the plate. "All gone. Mmm, I'm full now." He made a point of rubbing his stomach, while Threepio looked between the plate and Luke. Finally, he seemed satisfied, and turned away from the comm equipment. Artoo made a whistle that sounded like a sigh of relief.

"I will take the tray back to the kitchen," Threepio said. "Your father left instructions that you must be in bed by 21 hundred, Master Luke."

"What?! I'm not going to bed that early!"

Threepio suddenly stiffened again and made another attempt at moving towards the comm.

"Wait!" Luke protested. "Nine, you say? I was planning to have an early night anyway."

Threepio appeared satisfied and finally left the room.

Luke could only groan. "What did he do to him? I don't believe this! He's turned him into a worry worm!"

Artoo beeped in protest.

"Well, more of a worry worm, at least," Luke added.

* * *

After going to bed at nine and being forced to rise and shine at seven, Luke was feeling more than a little irritated at his father's 'reprogramming' of Threepio. Things only got worse as the day progressed, with every wrong move resulting in a panicky Threepio convinced he was at death's door. After a lunch consisting of stringy vegetable soup and water, Luke knew he had to get out of here before he went crazy.

Convincing Threepio to let him leave was another matter.

"But you could be kidnapped!" Threepio complained. "You could be hit by a speeder!"

"I'm just going out to the mall," Luke said, trying to stay calm. "To spend the credits my father gave me. He wouldn't have given them to me if he didn't want me to go out and spend them, right? Run that through your logic circuits!"

Threepio appeared to think for a moment, as if trying to resolve conflicting goals.

"If I'm not back in four hours, you can call local security," Luke said, finally. "How about that?"

"Four hours?!"

"I have to find _you_ a present too, you know," Luke said. "I know you're not quite yourself right now, after my father's butchering, but you'll appreciate it when you're back to normal."

Threepio finally relented. "Very well ... but be careful! I couldn't bear it if anything should happen to you, Master Luke!"

"It won't," Luke sighed. _As long as you don't count going crazy due to a paranoid protocol droid_.

* * *

The mall was crowded beyond belief, but then, it _was_ Christmas Eve. The skies were jammed with speeders trying to get within sight of the shopping center, and every landing pad was overflowing with vehicles parked in ridiculous places. Luke felt fortunate to be on foot.

Inside, every single shop had a queue three wide and twenty deep. Everyone was smiling though, and carolers and dancers were entertaining on every corner. The decorations put his own to shame for sheer excessiveness. The most spectacular being the gigantic holographic tree at the center, made entirely from projected stars. Banners representing every planet in the Empire were arranged in a circle around the edge, interspaced with bubbling fountains of colored water.

Luke couldn't be stirred from his melancholy, though, despite the joyous atmosphere. He went about his shopping tasks methodically, picking up a tin of polish for Threepio, and a new tool extension for Artoo, before losing interest in shopping entirely. He found himself a bench to rest on, and then studied the credit tab his father had left him.

So much money. At any other time he'd be going crazy with this. But what was the point in having presents when he didn't have the one person that really mattered? It just wasn't supposed to be like this ... he'd never imagined it could be like this. If only he could buy his father back, he'd hand over the credits in a heartbeat.

_Unless ..._

No, that was a crazy idea. Insane! Not that insanity had ever stopped him from doing anything in the past, but even he had a _limit_.

In front of Luke, a colored fountain suddenly switched off, causing a large glowing banner to fill Luke's vision.

_ICM Travel Agent—See The Galaxy!_

"It's a sign," Luke mumbled to himself, his eyes growing wide. "Literal and metaphorical!"

He quickly stood up and headed for the agency, telling himself that it wouldn't hurt to enquire, at least. Before getting anywhere near the place, however, he bumped into the end of a queue which made the other queues he'd been in look like the mall was having a slow day.

"Excuse me," Luke said softly, to the older Mon Calamari at the end of the line. "How long do you think it will take to get to the front?"

"Four hours, at least, sonny."

Luke sighed in disappointment. He'd told Threepio he'd be back in four. He could only hope the woman was mistaken.

"You can go in front of me, if it'd help," she added, shifting back to make space.

"Thank you," Luke smiled, accepting the offer. "See I'm trying to see if there's a flight which can take me to my father. We were supposed to spend Christmas together, but we've been separated. I miss him."

Three people in front of Luke heard his remark, and fairly soon he found himself moving forward yet again. Luke thanked them all repeatedly, surprised at how generous strangers could be. By the time he reached the front, there was still half an hour until his curfew, and the possibility of his crazy idea becoming reality seemed a whole lot closer.

That was until he sat down in front of the exhausted looking travel agent.

The Pantoran woman glanced at Luke, and then looked behind him.

"Where are your parents?"

"Uh ... they're not here," Luke explained. "I'm trying to reach my father for Christmas, see ..."

"How old are you?"

Luke looked around quickly for a sign. "Why?" he asked, finally. "How old do you have to be to—"

"You didn't answer my question, young man."

"It's Luke. And I'm fourteen."

"A little short for fourteen, aren't you, Luke? Can I see some proof of that?"

Luke made a show of feeling around in his pockets, before finally sighing in defeat. "All right, I'm not fourteen. But I really, really need to reach my father. He's ... he's the only family I've got. I don't want to spend Christmas alone. Please, you've _got_ to help me!"

The woman sighed in defeat. "How old are you really?"

"Very nearly thirteen," Luke said.

"And who is looking after you?"

"A droid," Luke said. "But he doesn't know I'm planning this."

"And where is your father?"

"Hadros Second," Luke said.

The travel agent entered the name into his computer terminal, and then frowned. "That's uninhabited."

"There's some kind of scientific research base," Luke said. "That's where he's gone."

"If you say so. But you'd be hard pressed to find a flight going anywhere near there on Christmas Eve."

Luke slumped with defeat. "Well, thanks anyway," he said, heavily, starting to stand up.

"Hang on," the woman said, waving him back down. "There's no harm in looking."

Luke brightened and watched intently as she did a thorough search. _Please, please, please_ ...

"I don't believe this," she said, finally. "I think I've found something."

"Great," Luke said, suddenly determined. "I'll take it. When does it leave?"

"Half an hour."

"Half an hour!" Luke hastily handed over the credit tab and fidgeted impatiently while the woman organized his travel documents.

"The freighter is leaving from landing platform 11, at the terminal on third."

Luke nodded and jumped to his feet. He would have to sprint the whole way, if he was going to make it back home to pack and then on to the landing pad. Then there was the matter of Threepio ... he'd have to handle that problem when he came to it.

"Here's your ticket." The travel agent passed a datachip over the desk, and Luke accepted it. "Good luck with reaching your father."

"Thank you so much! Merry Christmas!"

The woman smiled. "Merry Christmas to you, too."

Luke picked up his shopping and ran through the crowd, dodging people left and right. Half an hour, that's all he had. What would he need to take? It was cold in space, that much he remembered. He would need some clothes, his toothbrush, perhaps. Some food and drink to sustain him during the flight.

By the time he returned to the Imperial Palace, he was out of breath and tired, but he didn't stop running. He was going to reach his father, no matter what. When he stepped out of the elevator, Threepio was waiting in the corridor, while Artoo was nudging him to try and make him go back into the bedroom.

"Master Luke! You're home!"

Luke groaned. "Hi ...Threepio," he panted. He turned sideways to dodge around him.

"I was so worried! I thought you might have become lost, or—"

"I'm ... fine," Luke said, opening his bedroom doors. He had to gather his things. It wasn't until he began dragging an overnight bag out of his closet, that he suddenly saw a solution to his problem with the overly concerned droid. He would need Artoo's help, though, and he didn't have much time.

"Threepio," Luke said, suddenly. "I want to see if the light in his closet works when the door is closed. Would you mind getting in and having a look?"

"Certainly, Master Luke."

As Threepio moved forward, Luke winked at Artoo. Catching on to his intent, Artoo rolled forward, placing himself ready. Luke waited until Threepio was completely inside the closet, and then pressed the button to seal the doors.

"Now, Artoo," he said, stepping aside.

Artoo extended his welding pincer, and made short work of the closet door. The metal was melted into the wall, as high as Artoo was tall. Luke then proceeded to smash the controls with a holoball bat, leaving Threepio trapped.

"Sorry, Threepio," Luke called. "I'll let you out of there as soon as I get back. Just shut down for a few days."

Artoo made a somewhat sympathetic whistle.

"I know, Artoo," Luke said. "But I'm going to find my father. Look after my room for me, will ya?"

Luke picked up the bag and started for the exit. Artoo trailed behind, beeping loudly. It wasn't until they reached the elevator that Luke realized just what the droid's intentions were. It seemed he wasn't going to be alone on this trip.

He could only sigh and nod in acceptance.

"I guess I could hardly shut you in a closet, could I?"

Artoo whistled in agreement.

* * *

After a mad rush across the city, Luke arrived at the entrance to the platform with mere minutes to spare.

"This is it, Artoo," he said, as he approached the somewhat stern looking guard.

He cleared his throat and held out the datachip the travel agent had given him.

The guard didn't accept it, though. She stared at Luke as if he was a runaway from the zoo.

"Where are your parents?"

"My father is on Hadros Second," Luke explained. "That's where I'm going."

"You're traveling alone? How old are you?"

"I'm not alone," Luke said, gesturing back at Artoo.

The guard didn't look happy, but she eventually accepted Luke's travel pass. She walked with him towards the boarding ramp, pointing him to the right ship.

"Your father is negligent to let you travel alone," she said, finally. "And on a freighter, no less. Watch out for yourself, kid."

"I will," Luke said, hoping the guard was a pessimist.

Artoo whistled goodbye as well, and followed close behind Luke as they entered the decrepit looking freighter. They were met at the top by two security droids and a man with a datapad.

"Name?" he said, immediately.

"Luke Skywalker," Luke answered, hoping he wasn't in for another interrogation about his age.

But surprisingly, he was immediately waved onwards.

"Follow the droid to the passenger hold. Someone will come and get you when we reach Hadros Second. That should be in about six hours."

Luke nodded. "Come on, Artoo," he said, following the droid. It led him to a storage bay in the back of the ship, which was already crowded with passengers. Luke found himself an empty bench along the side wall and pushed his luggage underneath. He then sat back, and prepared himself for a long flight ahead.

The passengers looked pretty scary, but they didn't bother him. Mostly because every time one would come anywhere near them, Artoo would extend his welding pincer and make menacing beeps. Well, as menacing as Artoo could manage. It did the trick though, because he was left undisturbed. He occupied himself with reading, playing cards and finally with sleeping when it began to get late.

He was woken up by a frantic Artoo.

"Last chance—is there anyone going to Hadros Second here?!"

Luke quickly jumped up, rubbing the residual sleep from his eyes.

"Here! I'm coming!" He grabbed his luggage, and followed the trooper out into the corridor. There, he was met by a man who was wrapped up in so many layers of clothing, he was shaped like a big round ball. It was hard to see his face, as he had a thick fluffy hood covering the top half, and his mouth and chin were hidden behind a huge white beard.

Luke blinked at him in surprise. "Are you a pilot?" he asked.

"No, kid, I'm Father Christmas," he said, clapping him on the back as he led him down the corridor. Artoo trailed along behind, dragging Luke's luggage behind him.

"Who?" Luke asked, staring up at the gap from which the muffled voice had wafted.

"You know ... flying around on Christmas Eve ... delivering presents?"

"Oh," Luke said, grinning. "Where I grew up, the Sandman did that. He did have a beard just like yours, though. And nine flying banthas."

The pilot laughed. "Flying banthas, huh? That's one I've never heard. I'm not _really_ him, but I do fly around making deliveries on Christmas Eve, so I figure I might as well be."

"So you're delivering presents to Hadros Second?"

"Supplies, actually. This is the last delivery before the new year, so it's urgent. But I am delivering you, which could be seen as a present for someone, if I'm not mistaken."

Luke nodded. "I'm visiting my father. He doesn't know I'm coming—it's a surprise, see."

"I _love_ surprises."

"Is that the shuttle we're taking?" Luke asked, pointing as they entered the hangar. "The rear stabilizer has been modified."

"It's been adapted to high wind environments," the pilot explained. "So you know your ships, then?"

"My father has lots of ships," Luke said, following the pilot up the boarding ramp. "He collects them and modifies them. We've got some antiques from before the Clone Wars. Can I ride with you in the cockpit?"

"Of course. You're the co-pilot."

"You are the _best_ adult I have ever met," Luke declared and then ran full-tilt for the ship, nearly tripping in anticipation. Having explored every standard shuttle in his father's collection many times, Luke found his way to the cockpit easily and looked over the controls in awe.

"Wow," Luke breathed.

"She's a good ship," the pilot said, entering the cockpit behind him. "Got me in and out of some of the worst weather in the galaxy. Got a touch of the magic of the season in her, I think."

Artoo entered the cockpit and gave a positive whistle, and if to say 'I'm here now, we can leave!'

"Come on, let's get going," Luke said, jiggling up and down in the seat. "I can't wait to see my father."

The pilot obligingly switched on the engine. In front of them, the hangar bay doors slid open, revealing the gray, misty planet below. Luke leaned over the controls for a better view, curious as to what the terrain waited below.

"Looks kind of barren down there," Luke said.

The pilot laughed heartily. "Barren doesn't do it justice. It's a gray, lifeless, freezing rock of a place. But good if you want peace and quiet, I suppose."

They rose into the air and accelerated towards the atmosphere.

"By the way, you're going to need to wrap up a lot warmer," the pilot added, looking over at Luke. "Have you got more clothes?"

Artoo opened the bag and rolled over with a sweater clutched in his grappling arm. Luke pulled it over his head, but the pilot didn't seem satisfied.

"You'll need more than that, my young friend. Don't worry, I've got some spare stuff in the back."

Luke nodded. "Thank you." He stared out the window, seeing the surface of the gray, barren planet coming up fast. It really was a miserable place. Once they broke through the atmosphere, the small craft began to shake, buffeted by the high winds rushing across the surface. As they dropped lower, white flakes began battering the front window, reducing their view of the landscape to broken glimpses through the barrage.

"What _is_ that stuff?" Luke asked, in surprise.

"Snow. The temperature must be dropping."

Luke pushed his hands inside the sleeves of his sweater, feeling cold at the sight of it.

"There's the base," the pilot said, pointing to a dark blip on the horizon. "It isn't hard to miss. It's the only thing on this planet."

"Why did they build it here?" Luke asked.

"They're probably making something they don't want anyone else to know about."

"Even so, you think they could have found a better planet than this," Luke said. He rubbed his arms, feeling chilled as he gazed at the expansive rocky terrain.

"You better go wrap up," the pilot said. "We'll be landing soon, and it's going to hit you once you step out of the ship. You'll find more clothes in the box in the cargo hold ... they will be a few sizes too big, but better than nothing."

Luke nodded and went into the storage bay at the rear of the ship. There was a pile of warm clothing in a box by the doorway. As he pulled an oversized, dark red poncho over his head, he heard the rattling which indicated the landing gear was extending. Shortly after, there was a bump, and the engines powered down to standby. They had arrived safely, it seemed.

Luke went to stand at the top of the boarding ramp, eager to go and find his father. He couldn't wait to surprise him. His reaction was going to be priceless. Luke grinned to himself, imagining how impressed his father would be, when he saw he had found his way halfway across the galaxy, all by himself. This would prove to him that he wasn't as helpless and incapable as he thought.

He heard footsteps behind him, and turned to see the pilot had emerged from the cockpit.

"Stand back, buddy," he said, approaching the ramp controls.

Luke did so, and as the ramp lowered to the ground, he saw the reason for the warning. A blast of icy air came rushing in, causing everything that wasn't tied down to rattle.

The pilot walked a few steps down the ramp, and looked around. Luke hovered behind, keeping his hands inside his sleeves and covering his face from the wind.

"Strange," the pilot said, his voice somewhat distorted by the wind. "They usually have someone waiting to pick up the goods."

Luke looked up at the rectangular building, seeing a single light glowing in a window.

"Maybe we should knock," Luke called down the ramp.

"I just hope nothing has gone wrong," the pilot said, gazing up at the one, lone light.

Luke, suddenly getting an odd feeling, ran down the ramp and across to the entrance. The strong winds battered him as they roared across the exposed landing pad. They chilled him to the bone, even though it was only a few meters to the doorway. The doors were set into a sheltered alcove, for which Luke was grateful. He tried the door, and after finding it locked, pressed his hand on the various buttons. One of them had to be a door-com.

A minute later, the doors slid open, and a woman wearing an oversized snow jacket stood on the other side. Luke was relieved at the sight of her, but she stared at Luke with astonishment. Her gaze soon wandered past him to the shuttle.

"Oh, I completely forgot!"

She waved to the pilot, who walked across the landing pad, carrying a stack of crates on a hover dolly. Artoo trailed behind him, still carrying Luke's luggage.

"Come in, come in," the woman said, placing a hand on Luke's shoulder and guiding him into a room off to the right. "Get out of the wind before you freeze!"

Luke was glad to do so. The bright lights of the interior were in sharp contrast to the darkness outside, and Luke blinked away after visions and rubbed his eyes. He brushed the snowflakes from his shoulders, eyeing them curiously.

"Evening, Santa," their host said with a grin. "I see we've been good this year."

"If you don't count requesting a Christmas Eve supply delivery," the pilot said. Luke could tell he was smiling behind that crazy beard, though.

"You're a saint," their host said. "We can't thank you enough." She shook the pilot's hand, while the pilot gestured at Luke.

"Look after the boy there for me, will you, Kel? He's come to visit his father for Christmas, and may need a helping hand. I better get going, before the weather gets any worse."

"Yes, there's a storm blowing up," the woman replied, glancing over at Luke with renewed surprise. "Leave now, before you're stuck here for Christmas."

"Will do," the pilot said, giving a salute. "Merry Christmas."

The pilot nodded goodbye to Luke, and Luke returned the gesture. "Goodbye," he called, as the pilot disappeared back out to the landing pad. Shortly afterwards, he heard the roar of the shuttle's engines. He was a little sad to see him go ... he wouldn't have minded if he'd stayed for Christmas, but no doubt the pilot had his own family to reach.

"Visiting your father, did he say?"

Luke looked back at his host, and nodded.

"And what is your name, young man?"

"Luke Skywalker."

"I'm Kel Queenis, administrator here at our little research facility," she said, unzipping her jacket. She was wearing the uniform of the Imperial engineering corps underneath. "I must say, I'm surprised to see you, Luke. Family visits are forbidden here. It is a highly secret facility."

"Oh," Luke said, looking at the floor. "I didn't realize."

"But I'm sure we can make an exception," Kel added. "It is Christmas Eve, after all. Does your father know about this?"

"No," Luke said. "It's a surprise."

"I see. And which one of our dedicated workers is your father?"

"Oh, he doesn't work here," Luke said. "He just came for a visit. He probably arrived sometime this morning. Dressed in black, pretty tall … wears a mask?"

It took Kel several seconds to respond, and her voice sounded strained. "Lord Vader is your father?!"

Luke nodded, somewhat used to this reaction. "He is still here, right?"

"Certainly, but—"

"Well, can I go find him?" Luke asked, impatiently.

* * *

_I must be going crazy_ , Vader thought. Either that, or the Force bond he shared with his son had a far greater range than he was previously aware of. His son was light years away, safe on Coruscant, yet it felt like he was right around the corner.

"Is there a problem, sir?"

Vader focused on the head scientist. She had been explaining some diagram or other, but Vader was too distracted to let any of it sink in.

"I was observing that the weather appears to be getting worse," Vader said, gesturing out the window. "I will need to depart soon."

"Well, we've pretty much covered it all here," the woman said, switching off the projector. "I will have copies made for you at once."

"Make sure all documentation is included," Vader said. "Everything will be secure in the Imperial vaults on Coruscant."

The scientist nodded, while taking out her comlink. Two minutes after he relayed the order, a junior technician entered the room, holding a circular datachip.

He swallowed nervously as he handed it to Vader, keeping as much distance between himself and the Sith Lord as possible.

There was a good reason for his fear, Vader mused. Now that he had the data safely in his clutches, the occupants of this building were no longer needed. The Emperor had simply ordered them disposed of, but he had left the specifics up to Vader.

Force Choking would be clean, but time consuming. The longer he took to carry out this task, the greater the chance of a complication. The most efficient way would be to collect all six personnel together in one room, and then have an 'accident' with his lightsaber. The request to have all the personnel gather might generate some suspicion, however. He could already detect a fair amount of trepidation rippling through the scientists.

Trepidation and ... excitement? The doors slid open again, and this time, a further three scientists entered the room. Two of them were smiling, in a somewhat secretive manner. They hovered around the computer terminals along the far wall, attempting to look as if they had a reason for being here.

Vader fingers twitched towards his lightsaber. He didn't appreciate games. Whatever they were up to, it would be laid to rest with them, very shortly. Five of them in a room together was too good an opportunity to miss. Then the door opened again, and the sixth and last member of the staff entered the room ... the administrator.

"Excuse me, Lord Vader, sir," she said. "It seems we just had a visit from an old man with a long white beard and—"

"I have no patience for childish games, Administrator," Vader said, holding up a hand.

"This is no game, I assure you, sir. He made a very special delivery ... just for you. It's waiting outside … I'll just go and get it ..."

Vader let out a weary breath. They had obviously gone slightly unhinged with the isolation. Or perhaps they had caught whatever insane mood had infected Luke. Whatever ridiculous 'present' they intended to give him, it was going out the airlock on his way home.

He rested his arms by his sides, making sure his lightsaber was easily accessible, and then waited for the revelation. He had to admit, he was slightly curious about what this present was, despite the inappropriate manner of its presentation. The doors slid open, and the administrator beckoned to something waiting outside.

 _A droid_? Vader thought.

Then, the doorway was filled with a silhouette that was very familiar, despite the presence of thick clothing. The person stepped into the light, finally leaving no doubt in Vader's mind as to the identity of this 'present'.

"Surprise!" Luke said, grinning.

Vader almost choked, despite the respirator. This had to be a sick joke. A nightmare. He was hallucinating. Luke was on Coruscant, tucked up safely in his bed ...

"Well," Luke said, "aren't you going to say hello?"

Vader glanced over at the audience, who were all grinning in a sentimental manner, as if they expected him to be delighted to see his son, hundreds of light years from where he was supposed to be. He had to get out of here, fast, before he snapped and killed them all, leaving his son scarred for life. However, that might still be the case, after he had finished with the boy. He moved towards the door, striding quickly past his son and grabbing him by the back of his clothing in the process. He didn't stop dragging his son until they were a good twenty meters down the corridor, away from the ears of nosy scientists.

He released Luke, who stepped back, rubbing his neck and looking up at him in fear. It would normally disturb Vader to see that expression in Luke's eyes, but he was past caring.

"You had better start explaining," Vader said, pointing at Luke. "And that explanation better be very, _very_ good. What in the galaxy are you _doing_ here?!"

"I ... I missed you," Luke said, still rubbing his neck where the poncho had pulled tight.

"How, in the name of the Force, did you get here?! You are supposed to be on Coruscant!"

"I ... I came on a freighter."

"By yourself?"

"No, there were other passengers on the ship."

"How did you pay for this?"

"You gave me some credits before you left," Luke explained.

Vader clenched a fist, wondering how he could have been so stupid. He hadn't realized he had given Luke enough to fly across the galaxy. Or perhaps he hadn't realized Luke was _crazy_ enough that this would even occur to him. Yet again, he had underestimated his son's capacity for recklessness.

He stared at Luke, wondering what in the galaxy he was going to do with the boy. He was here to carry out a task that no child should ever have to see. And yet, here he was.

"You shouldn't be here," Vader said, finally. "I am here on the Emperor's business. I don't have the time or the ability to see to your needs. You have created a serious problem with your presence."

"I just thought that—"

"Your thoughts on this matter are _insignificant_ ," Vader said. "I told you to stay on Coruscant—you disobeyed me. You put your own feelings ahead of my wishes."

"I'm sorry," Luke said, his voice starting to shake. "I thought ... you'd be h-happy to see me."

"Happy? After you disobeyed me and recklessly endangered your life? All that time spent under the Tatooine suns must have affected your ability to think. Which doesn't surprise me—this isn't the first time you have behaved like this. You _never_ learn."

Luke flinched at his words and looked at the floor. "I just wanted to be with you for C-Christmas," he sniffed.

"I should have left you with the Emperor," Vader said. "He would have taught you how foolish your feelings towards this infantile holiday truly are."

Luke reached up to wipe a tear away, and Vader turned away, sighing in exasperation. What's done was done, and Luke wasn't going anywhere. He could berate the boy further at another time. Right now, he had a job to do, and the sooner he completed that task, the sooner he could leave this barren place and take his son back home.

"Come with me," Vader said.

* * *

Luke jogged softly after his father, down the corridors of the small research facility, trying to make as little noise as possible. He was wishing the floor would simply crack open and swallow him up right now. Everything had gone so wrong. His father wasn't happy to see him at _all_. And he felt dark and creepy. Luke was wary of getting too close to him. He followed behind, but was careful to keep a good distance between them.

He felt another tear run down his cheek, but didn't bother to wipe it away. All his joy and anticipation had been sucked away, and there was nothing left but a sad, empty hole. He'd been stupid to even think of this in the first place. Christmas was just a fantasy. A fantasy where fathers and sons were always together, and no one ever yelled at anyone else. You sure didn't celebrate on some barren, freezing planet where there were absolutely no decorations. It had been a nice dream, but it was over. Reality was settling in, and it was time he stopped fighting it.

Eventually, they reached the ship hangar, where a shuttle sat waiting. Luke recognized it as the one his father had left Coruscant in. He shivered as a gust of wind whistled through the large room. It was _freezing_ in here.

His father waited at the bottom of the ramp, and waved a hand to indicate Luke should enter the ship first. Luke hurried forward, not wanting to risk making his father impatient. He was already angry enough.

Inside, his father pushed him into the small passenger lounge.

"You said you would do whatever I wanted for a day?" his father asked. "Then you will stay here. You will not move from this room, under _any_ circumstances. Am I clear?"

Luke quickly nodded, and his father turned to leave, without another word. He shut the doors behind him, and Luke went to the couch and buried his face in his arms.

* * *

Vader tapped his lightsaber handle against the palm of his left hand as he walked away from the hangar. It was time. He would quickly dispose of the personnel, plant the charges, and then set the facility for self-destruct. They could jump to hyperspace before Luke was any the wiser.

He could sense the scientists still mingling around the main tech room, probably discussing the arrival of his son. No doubt they were thinking he must be a negligent and uncaring parent, leaving his son alone at Christmas. Perhaps they weren't too far off the mark.

He turned a corner and found himself almost bumping into an astromech droid, dragging a bag along behind. It took him a moment to recognize Artoo-Detoo.

"I should have known," he said, angrily.

Artoo made a loud, rude noise, and then beeped out a question.

"Luke is in my shuttle," Vader said. "If you care for him at all, I suggest you make absolutely certain he stays there. I have a job to do."

The droid then launched into a long tirade of beeps and whistles, while jiggling from side to side. Vader quite clearly made out the phrases ' _you piece of poodoo!_ ' and ' _you need a memory flush and a heart upgrade!_ '

Vader wasn't entirely sure whether these insults were the result of Artoo overhearing his conversation with Luke, or whether he'd guessed what he was here to do. Either way, he was past caring.

"Perhaps I should convert you into a trash can," Vader suggested, stepping around him and making his way towards the tech room.

Artoo made another rude noise, and added ' _I miss Anakin_ ', before rolling on his way.

As Vader approached the door, he was about to ignite the blade, when the head scientist emerged from the room, looking somewhat flustered. She stopped when she saw Vader.

"My lord, I have some bad news. The storm is heading straight for us, and the winds are far too strong to risk flying. I'm afraid you will have to delay your departure."

Vader stretched out with the Force, sensing the truth in her words.

"How long until the storm moves over?" he demanded.

"It could be anything from a few hours to a few days, my lord," the scientist said. "The weather is extremely erratic here."

Vader frowned to himself, wondering what life was going to throw at him next. There was little point in killing the men and women until he was ready to leave. He noticed the scientist's gaze traveling to his lightsaber, and he quickly holstered it.

"You and your son are welcome to join us for—" the scientist started.

"I will be remaining on my ship," Vader said, turning and heading back down the corridor. The last thing he wanted was to form any kind of attachment to these people. Luke, given his open and friendly nature, had no doubt already made a friend among them. Any more exposure would only be detrimental.

Upon arriving back at the ship, he made his way to the cockpit, throwing his outer cape over the back of a chair in the process. Luke could stay in the passenger lounge until the storm passed over. Meanwhile, he had work to do. He could analyze the data tape the scientist had given him, making sure that nothing was left out or encrypted. He wouldn't put it past them to encode some security, to ensure their continued usefulness. The trouble with dealing with scientists, as opposed to politicians, was scientists were exceptionally intelligent. They tended to plan ahead.

After a good hour of sifting through the pages and pages of data and tables, he heard a soft beeping sound from the controls. He looked up and saw a serving droid entering the hangar through the far doors. The scientists simply could not leave him well enough alone, it seemed. He might as well go and see what their visitor wanted. The droid waited at the bottom of the boarding ramp, until he emerged from the ship.

"Lord Vader, I am AS-34, food-serving unit. I will bring any food or beverages you require. I can be contacted on comm channel twelve, otherwise I will check back at pre-set meal times."

The words caused Vader to glance back into the ship, his gaze falling on the closed door to the passenger lounge. Luke had probably had nothing to eat since he left Coruscant.

"Do you have a menu?" Vader asked, turning back to the droid.

The droid supplied a datapad, which contained a menu of surprising magnitude. It even contained a wine list. For a government run institution, they certainly ate well. He had intended to pick out a few simple items that might appeal to Luke's tastes, but that was proving somewhat difficult.

"Is this your regular menu?" Vader asked, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"No, sir, this is a special menu for Christmas Eve."

Vader nodded. "Wait here." He walked up to the passenger lounge and pressed the door release. Inside, Luke was hunched up in the corner of a couch, hugging his knees, and looking most decidedly miserable. His eyes were still red from crying. Artoo was resting nearby, making soft, comforting whistles.

Vader let out a weary breath at the sight. Luke was sensitive, especially when it came to his father's criticism. Perhaps he had been a little harsh with him earlier. His son had been foolish, and he had endangered his life, but perhaps he had gone the wrong way about communicating his displeasure. His son appeared more fearful and upset, than remorseful.

"Come and choose what you would like to eat from this menu," Vader said, extending the datapad in his son's direction.

Luke didn't look up. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled.

"When was the last time you ate?"

Luke didn't reply.

Vader felt his patience wearing thin, but he restrained his temper. The boy was being stubborn, that was all. He could handle it.

"Very well, I will choose for you," Vader said, studying the datapad. "Stringy vegetables with essence of petrified wood soup. How does that sound?"

"I'm not hungry," Luke repeated.

Vader studied Luke for a moment, before turning and leaving the room. No doubt his son would change his mind once he had the food in front of him. He glanced over the menu for a third time, trying to spot something that would tempt a hungry young Skywalker out of a sulk.

"My son will have the steak and vegetables," he said, finally returning the menu to the droid. "With juice as a beverage."

"And dessert, sir?"

"Anything large and sweet."

"Yes, sir. I will return in approximately twenty minutes."

Vader nodded. On his way back to the cockpit, he glanced back in the passenger lounge, and switched the door controls so the door would remain permanently open.

"Your food will be twenty minutes," he said. "You are welcome to join me in the cockpit while you wait."

He didn't expect Luke to answer, but a quiet voice came in reply. "Are we leaving tonight?"

"Unfortunately, the storm has hit, and the winds are too high to make a safe liftoff. We will have to wait until it has passed over."

Vader sensed disappointment radiating from his son. He clearly wanted to leave this place as much as he did. Ironic, after all the effort he had expended to get here. A fact that he still found hard to believe.

He waited a few seconds longer, debating with himself whether to repeat his invitation, and then decided against it. Luke would come if he wanted to.

It was a good fifteen minutes, though, before Vader heard the squeak of the co-pilot's chair. Luke had climbed into it and was hunched up in a similar position to the one he had assumed in the passenger lounge. His food soon arrived, and he ate it in silence. Despite his earlier insistence, Vader noted that he consumed it quite rapidly. Especially the dessert.

After the droid had returned to clear away the plates and utensils, Luke remained in silence, and Vader was grateful. It was proving difficult to determine whether the data had been encoded or not. Perhaps he should have paid more attention during the scientists' presentation, instead of endlessly worrying about his son. He glanced over at Luke, wondering how many of his problems could trace their roots back to the start of the boy's presence in his life.

Still, as frustrating as Luke could be sometimes, he knew, deep down, that he wouldn't have it any other way. And despite his initial anger, he was starting to feel much calmer about the situation. At least if Luke was here, under his eye, he didn't have to worry about what he was getting up to on Coruscant.

"Are you all right?" Vader asked, finally becoming concerned about Luke's persistent silence. It was very unusual for his son.

Luke shook his head, shaking slightly.

"What is wrong?" Vader asked, standing up immediately. He reached over to feel Luke's forehead, concerned the boy might have caught some disease from a passenger on his flight over.

"I'm ... f-freezing," Luke explained, continuing to shiver.

Vader could have kicked himself. His own life support suit had left him unaware of the dropping temperature around him, and meanwhile his son was on his way to hypothermia. He quickly leaned over to turn up the ship's thermostat, and then went to the supply locker. There was only one thermal blanket inside, but it would have to do.

He returned to the cockpit, and wrapped it around his son.

"Why didn't you say something earlier?" he demanded.

"I t-thought you wouldn't care," Luke said, gratefully taking advantage of the blanket. "You'd t-think it serves me r-right for coming here."

"Son, that is the last thing I would think," Vader said, returning to the co-pilot's seat. "Your health and wellbeing is far more important than any disagreement we may have over your presence here."

Luke continued to shiver for a while, before adding. "You h-hate me."

Vader let out a weary breath and reached over to switch off the computer. It was clear he had another matter to attend to first—one far more complicated than recursively encoded algorithms.

"You know that is not true," he said, firmly.

"It _is_ true. You said you don't have t-time for me, and I'm one big p-problem."

Vader thought back, trying to recall exactly what he said. He had a feeling he was being selectively misquoted, but his actual words were long gone from his mind.

"I very much doubt I said that. I am sorry if that is how you interpreted my words. My career may mean that I do not have enough time to give you all the attention you may require, but that does not mean I have no time for you. And your actions may occasionally cause me problems, like today, but that does not mean that you are a problem in and of yourself."

"You're always so logical," Luke said, disappearing down into the blanket. Only his eyes remained visible, peering out of a hollow.

"And you are too emotional, young one," Vader said. "You need to learn to consider your actions, instead of rushing around the galaxy acting purely on the whim of your feelings."

"But aren't you always talking about 'trusting your feelings'?"

"Yes, but not feelings which are telling you to do something stupid."

"Weren't you even a little pleased to see me?" Luke asked. "Even the teeniest, tiniest bit?"

"Is that what you expected?"

"Yes. I thought you'd be impressed that I managed to find my way here, all by myself."

"You have a loose grip on reality, Son," Vader said, turning away. He knew his son was right, though. Despite his anger at the risk to Luke's life, he was impressed with the boy's resourcefulness. But if he said that, it would simply encourage Luke to try something worse. Next time, he could end up dead. "You could have been hurt," he added. "You could have been kidnapped ... and worse, you could have been killed. Do you think that would impress me, Son?"

A sigh came from the depths of the blanket. "No," came a quiet voice.

Silence resumed, and Vader returned to studying the data tape. It wasn't long before Luke spoke up again, however.

"I'm sorry if I ruined your mission."

"It is salvageable," Vader replied. At least if the weather eventually began to cooperate.

"But I was missing you," Luke continued. "I just couldn't stand to think of us spending our first Christmas together separated. I've never been away from family on Christmas before. And we've already missed enough Christmas days without adding on another one. I don't mind if I have to stay in here and keep quiet—as long as we're together. Is it so wrong to want to be with my father for Christmas?"

Vader let out a weary breath. "Luke, why do you insist on pretending that I am, in any way, desirable company? You would have had far more fun with your friend's family, and you know it. I should have arranged for you to spend Christmas with someone else a month ago. I will remember to do so next year."

"You just don't get it!" Luke sighed. "You're my _father_. Do you know how long I've dreamed of spending Christmas with you?"

"With _me_? Or with some perfect fantasy father?"

"I don't expect you to be perfect," Luke said. "And I'd take you over a fantasy father any day. At least you're real."

"That is all you can say for me," Vader said, quietly. Luke's natural attachment to him was so strong, so open ... what would the boy think if he knew why he was really here? Part of him wanted to tell his son and stop this before it went any further. No doubt the boy would discover what terrible things his father was capable of eventually. Why not get it over and done with now?

On the other hand, Luke was so young and so innocent. This age would never come again for Luke, why not let him enjoy it?

"You should return to the passenger lounge and go to sleep," Vader said, becoming uncomfortable with Luke's gaze. "It is well past your bedtime."

"It's just after 21 hundred!" Luke protested.

"Here, perhaps. It is nearing midnight in Imperial City."

"Well, sure, if you want to get _technical_ ," Luke said. He let out a loud yawn, which pretty much sealed his fate.

"I'll sleep here," Luke said, curling up and resting his head on the arm of the chair. He had found a black pillow, somewhere, but it didn't look particularly comfortable. After some close scrutiny, Vader saw that his son's 'pillow' was in fact his cape, which Luke had obviously seen as fair game for bedding.

He frowned at the sight, but didn't have the heart to protest. Luke appeared surprisingly comfortable, considering he was curled up in such a small space. So comfortable, it was making him feel tired just looking at him.

"See you on Christmas morning," Luke mumbled, sleepily.

Vader stretched out with the Force to switch off the ship's interior lights. It was time he withdrew into a meditative trance and rejuvenated his mind. Many things were dividing his attention, but no doubt the weight of the task he had yet to complete, the problem of his son's innocence, and the storm itself would seem far more manageable by the morning.

"Goodnight, son."

* * *

"Uncle Owen?!"

Vader opened his eyes, and looked around in confusion. Uncle who?

"Aunt Beru! No! Get away from them!"

Vader's vision came into focus on his son. Waves of distress were rocking the texture of the Force around him, causing Vader to wince with the mental turmoil assaulting his senses.

"Luke," he called.

"No!"

Vader stood up, realizing he would have to wake Luke physically. He was too involved in his nightmare to wake of his own accord, even though he was bent into a cramped, awkward shape.

"Wake up, Son," he said, firmly. "You are having a nightmare."

He reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, and Luke instantly jerked away.

"Don't kill them!" he moaned. "I won't _let_ you kill them!"

Vader stepped back in shock. He _knew_. Somehow, Luke had discovered his intentions. A few seconds of painful silence passed, until Vader became aware that Luke was blinking at him.

"Father?" he said, shakily.

Vader forced himself to relax. Luke didn't know what he was saying ... he was having a nightmare. It was more likely he had imagined he was speaking to some shadowy figure from his past. Perhaps one responsible for his aunt and uncle's death. His own intentions here were safe from his son.

"You were having a nightmare, Luke," Vader explained.

"I'm ... I'm so cold," Luke said. "What t-time is it? Where are w-we?

"On Hadros Second," Vader said, reaching down to retrieve Luke's bedding. "At the scientific research base. And—" he glanced over at the ship's chronometer. "—it is just past oh-three-hundred."

He passed the blanket to Luke, who wrapped himself up in it eagerly. His breath was fogging, indicating the temperature outside had dropped another notch. Vader studied the thermostat, wondering if he could risk turning it up further. The gauge told him the answer was no—draining the ship's fuel reserves before making a long trip back to Coruscant was most decidedly unwise. He did have another idea, however. The Force could be easily used to create a personal temperature controlled bubble ... maintaining it was the trick. Luke would have to be sitting very close to him, though. Unfortunately, the chairs were locked into the floor.

"Come here a moment," Vader said, beckoning Luke over.

"Too cold to m-move," Luke protested.

"If you come here, I can use the Force to help you keep warm."

Luke reluctantly shuffled over, and Vader, much to Luke's chagrin, lifted him onto his lap.

"I am _way_ too old for this!" Luke protested.

"This is only to keep warm," Vader insisted. "Nothing else."

Luke grumbled, but soon stopped when he felt the air around him rise several degrees in a matter of seconds.

"How do you do that?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"A Force bubble. It extends about a meter out."

Luke tested it, before shuffling back into its borders.

"Ok, I'll stay," he said. "But never tell anyone about this."

"Who would I tell?"

"Ben."

"Never heard of him."

"My friend!" Luke protested.

"The one who hides to avoid talking to me?"

"That's the one."

"When would I get an opportunity to tell him?"

"Good point."

They sat in silence for a moment, with the only sound being the regular inhalations of Vader's respirator. Vader concentrated on maintaining the heat bubble, and leaned back against the chair, closing his eyes. Luke was certainly heavy for someone so gangly and short, but he wasn't uncomfortable. If only he'd stop shuffling and fidgeting ...

"I just realized something," Luke said, quietly.

"What?"

"It's Christmas."

Vader didn't reply.

"Merry Christmas," Luke said.

 _How did I know that was coming next_ , Vader thought. His son sounded anything but merry, though. He stretched out a small Force thread to connect with his son, wondering what was troubling the boy. Residual feelings from his nightmare, no doubt.

"What were you dreaming about?" Vader asked.

"Oh, nothing," Luke said.

"Your aunt and uncle?"

Luke nodded. "I don't know why."

"You have been thinking about them recently. It is only natural."

"Yeah," Luke said. He didn't sound like he agreed, though. "You felt strange," he added. "When I first arrived."

"What do you mean?"

"Kinda cold. Dark."

Vader let out a weary breath. Luke had sensed his intentions. His son was a little more perceptive than he gave him credit for.

"Were you planning to hurt someone?" Luke asked.

Vader was silent, trying to decide how he was going to explain this, without glossing it over. It wasn't possible to justify this in a way Luke would understand.

"It is not your concern," Vader said, finally.

Luke was silent.

"I am sorry," Vader added.

"For what?"

"For what you sensed from me. I did not realize you were so attuned to my feelings."

"I don't like it when you feel like that," Luke admitted. "It scares me."

His small, subdued voice tugged at a heart Vader didn't know he had. How could he have let this happen? All the boy had wanted was to be with his father for Christmas, and instead he had arrived to almost witness a murder. No wonder the boy had been plagued with nightmares. It was all his fault.

He couldn't kill these scientists now. He couldn't expose his son to this, despite the Emperor's orders. He would find another solution.

"No one is going to be hurt," he said, firmly. "I promise you. Sleep in peace, my son."

"I guess I was wrong then," Luke said, sleepily.

"Yes, you were," Vader said, adjusting his arm as Luke rested his head against it.

"You think the Sandman ... will be able to find ... this place? Luke mumbled.

Vader almost smiled. The Sandman was an old Tatooine legend ... a dusty apparition that delivered presents to children on Christmas night. His son was embarrassed to be on his lap, convinced he was old enough to fly around the galaxy alone ... and yet still half wondered if maybe the Sandman was real. He couldn't help but wonder if he had ever been so innocent.

"Perhaps he already did," Vader said.

Luke didn't reply.

"Son, there is something I should tell you," Vader said, suddenly getting a strange feeling from the Force that he should voice his thoughts while they lasted. "You asked what was the best present I ever received. I told you I didn't remember. But I do remember. It was the day your mother told me I was going to be a father."

He was silent for a moment, thinking back.

"I was so happy," he said. "But also anxious. I couldn't imagine myself as a father. I had made so many mistakes ... how could I ever be a role model for a son or daughter? Those fears were justified, because I realize I have not been a good father to you. I should never have left you alone, and I should not have yelled at you. But you are the best thing in my life—I want you to know that."

He glanced down at Luke, and found his son was fast asleep and snoring.

* * *

Luke woke up and blinked at the ceiling. Where in space was he? He shuffled into a sitting position, and glanced around the small, square room. The passenger lounge on the shuttle ... he was sleeping in a makeshift bed on the couch, with the thermal blanket draped over him, and one of the couch cushions as a headrest.

Beside him, on the floor, was a tray of breakfast, with a small Christmas wreath in one corner.

It took him all of three minutes to consume the food, and then he went in search of his father. He hesitated before leaving the passenger lounge, wondering if his father's instructions to stay here still held. But then, he had specified that the contract was only valid between midday and midnight of a single day, and it was well past midnight.

He didn't move very far, before finding signs of life. The deputy administrator, Kel, was in the hangar bay, loading up a medium sized utility craft with crates of supplies.

"Are you leaving?" Luke asked, surprised.

Kel glanced up. "I am indeed. The others have already gone—I'm the last one here."

"What about your research project?" Luke asked.

"What research project?"

"Uh ... never mind," Luke said, deciding Kel must be a little like the eccentric science teacher at his high school—overly forgetful. "Have you seen my father?"

"He's in the supply room, I believe," Kel said. "Whatever is there is yours for the taking. I've got all I want."

"Thank you," Luke said. "I better go find him. It was nice meeting you."

"You too, Luke," Kel said, smiling. "I'm glad your surprise worked out."

Luke nodded. "Merry Christmas."

"And to you."

* * *

It took longer than Vader expected to evacuate the facility and set the charges. Partly because Luke had insisted on loading up their shuttle with various boxes of junk he had found, while quoting some ridiculous phrase often said by his Uncle Owen—'waste not, want not'. Then there was a minor drama when Artoo could not be found, with his son becoming distressed and suggesting he might have been accidentally taken by one of the scientists.

Vader was the one who finally located him, in a control room downloading the computer core. What a droid could possibly want with the computer core from a research lab, Vader could only wonder. He decided there was no harm in it, though—it wasn't as if there was any likelihood of the droid ending up in Rebel hands.

After Artoo was safely on board, and Luke had decided that he couldn't possibly take _everything_ the scientists left behind, Vader revved the engine, and they headed for the stars. Luke watched the buildings explode from the port side window in the passenger lounge, then jokingly suggested to Vader that they'd left the data tapes behind. Neither of them were sorry to leave this place, though. As crowded and busy as Coruscant was, at least it had decent climate controls.

An hour into hyperspace, Luke emerged from the passenger lounge, carrying a box in his arms.

"Feel like a game?" he asked, slipping into the co-pilot's seat.

"I never feel like games."

"Come on, it'll be fun." Luke pulled out a board from the base of the cockpit, creating a table between them. "The scientists left this one behind on the base."

Luke temporarily rested the box lid on the controls. Vader glanced at it, almost dreading what he would see. It could have been worse, though—it appeared to be some kind of trivia game. At least Luke might learn something by playing this.

"You can be the black knight marker," Luke said, activating the game board. "It suits you. I'll be the airspeeder."

"Who said I was playing?"

"It's Christmas," Luke said, looking at him with a slight smirk. "You can't say no to me on _Christmas_."

Vader momentarily debated with himself whether to think up some acerbic reply, but he eventually swiveled his chair around with a sigh.

Over the next few hours, they traded questions from a variety of categories, while their holo markers slowly moved around a lighted path made up of different colored squares. Luke was easily holding his own, despite his claims that he was just guessing the answers. When Vader reached the final square, there was ten points between them, and Luke was close behind. He had one last final opportunity to make it a draw, though, when he landed on the last question square before the end.

"History," Luke groaned. "I'm terrible at this."

"You have claimed to be terrible at every category thus far, Son," Vader said, fishing out an orange-backed card.

"I told you, I'm lucky," Luke said.

"There is no such thing—"

"—as luck," Luke finished. "Let's hear it. Then I'll decide whether I agree with you."

Vader studied the text, almost smiling when he realized what the answer was. "Who led the Imperial Troops to victory at the battle of Langanoon?"

Luke groaned. "What is with all these Imperial questions? I grew up on Tatooine!"

"It was probably a requirement for the game to pass the censor," Vader said.

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking," Luke said, holding up a hand. "Langanoon ... Langanoon ..."

Vader leaned back, tapping his fingers on the armrest.

"Blast it," Luke sighed.

"You could always opt out and ask me a question," Vader suggested.

"No way! I'm not letting you win by twice what that card is worth!"

"It's worth twenty points," Vader provided, helpfully.

"Twenty! Okay, I'm going to get this no matter what ... who led the battle ... who led the battle ... is it someone we know? Someone who's met with you at the palace and you've introduced me?"

"It is most definitely someone you know."

Luke proceeded to name just about everyone in the navy whose name he could remember, despite Vader pointing out that multiple guesses were forbidden in the rules.

Finally, his son raised his hands in surrender. "I give up."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, you win," Luke said, reaching over to trigger the dice roll. He shifted his airspeeder marker to the final square, alongside the black knight. "Let's hear the answer."

Vader passed him the card, and Luke accepted it. Just before he read the answer, though, he suddenly sat up straighter. Vader could almost see the lightbulb appearing over his head.

"It was YOU wasn't it?!"

"How ever did you guess?"

"Ha! I win!"

"No, son, _I_ win. You had already surrendered."

"I did not surrender! I had merely temporarily rested my marker in the final square in case of—"

"You're not arguing, are you, son?" Vader suggested. "Arguing on _Christmas_?"

Luke sighed. "Yeah, and it's beginning to feel a lot like it did on Tatooine. Aunt Beru—she always won at Word Spinner, even when Uncle Owen and I teamed up against her. All right. You win. But we're playing this again next year, and there's a new rule—no questions where you are the answer."

The computer began beeping, and Vader swiveled his chair to study the readouts. "Half an hour until we drop out of hyperspace."

"Half an hour! Too soon! As soon as we land on Coruscant, I know what's going to happen—you're going to go off to talk to the Emperor. There's still several hours of Christmas left—let's go have some fun."

Artoo began whistling from the passenger lounge, and Luke looked back in surprise.

"He is reminding you that Threepio is still shut in your closet," Vader said.

"He'll be fine," Luke said. "I told him to shut down ... he won't even know how long he's been in there. _Please_?"

Vader glanced at his son, wondering how one was supposed to know if you were spoiling your child. Still, he wasn't looking forward to speaking to the Emperor. Hopefully the subject of what he did with the scientists wouldn't come up. There was quite a gap between erasing the scientists' memory of the research, and 'disposing' of them.

"What did you have in mind?" he sighed.

Luke grinned and pulled out a datapad he must have programmed earlier. He passed it to Vader.

"The fifteen ringed gas giants of Glybol," Luke said. "One of the ten most amazing sights in the galaxy. Only 30 minutes in hyperspace from our current position!"

"It will be crowded in the holiday season," Vader warned.

Luke rolled his eyes. "That's exactly what Uncle Owen said whenever I suggested going anywhere on Christmas afternoon. Even if I suggested we go and hang out at the local sarlacc pit. Come on—they're gas giants. Even if they were crowded beyond belief, it's not like you could possibly miss them."

"Very well, young one," Vader said, reaching over to plot a course. They momentarily dropped out of hyperspace, in order to make adjustments for the new destination.

"And I've still got some Christmas credits left," Luke said, excited. "Can't _wait_ to hit the souvenir shop! Maybe I can get you another present. I think you wasted the first one."

"You are incorrigible," Vader said, glancing over at his surprisingly energetic offspring.

"I know," Luke said. "But it'll all be over soon."

 _Thank the Force_ , Vader thought.

"Until next year," Luke added, grinning at his father. "Our second Christmas together! Can't wait!"

Vader could only sigh, as the stars turned into streams of light and they accelerated towards their new destination. This Christmas had been full of surprises, drama, conflicting emotions ... and Force help him, he had actually had _fun_ playing a childish trivia game with his son. One day of feeling a strange need to give in to his son's every whim, not to mention the weeks of anticipation leading up to the big day ...

So why did a small part of him look forward to doing this again next year?

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Fanart**  
>  Check out this amazing fanart:
> 
> From laheyy:
> 
> <https://laheyy.tumblr.com/post/638722786962161664/it-was-you-wasnt-it-how-ever-did-you>


	4. Swimming Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after FB2, when Luke is 12. Luke needs to learn to swim, and Vader feels like he's in the parenting deep end.

Red and blue lightsaber blades hummed and clashed in front of Vader's mask as he parried yet another hopeful attack. All around them, the rocks hissed with the steam from the boiling water deep below. Sweat poured from the face of the doomed Cerean as he slipped backward, falling to his knees as Vader brought his blade around to point at his throat. The blue lightsaber clattered down the rocks, rolling into the steaming water.

"You are weak," he taunted.

He only received an insult in response, in a language he only partially understood. Something about having a charred soul or body. Either way, he wasn't wrong.

"But you could be stronger," Vader said, lowering the blade slightly. "The Jedi failed you. The Empire will not."

This particular target had eluded the Inquisitors for a long time. He had been raised in the Jedi Order, but never became a padawan, due to his volatile nature and inability to focus his thoughts. Until last week, he'd been living a civilian life of complete anonymity. It was only through the vigilance of a local clerk who noticed an irregularity in his identification when he'd attempted to apply for a job.

Vader gestured behind the man, where an Inquisitor now lay dead.

"You can take her place."

He looked from Vader's blade to his mask, shoulders heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. There was both fear and resignation in his eyes. The word 'no' passed his lips but it was quiet. Unconvincing.

"What life is there for you here?" Vader prompted. "Come with me, and you will have purpose."

"I won't!" he declared, closing his eyes. "Just do it!"

"That would be a waste." Vader switched off the blade and offered him a hand. "You have nothing to lose."

The man opened one eye, clearly afraid of what he would see. He cringed away from the offered hand.

" _Please_ ," he whispered.

"I can sense your fear. Join me, and it will be you who is feared."

"Please, Jedi of old, help me!"

Vader was about to point out just why calling on the Jedi of old was a futile exercise, when a persistent beeping noise interrupted his train of thought. The Cerean fully opened his eyes now, looking around in confusion, before realizing the sound was coming from Vader's belt.

Several possible actions in response to this situation arose in Vader's mind. He could pretend his comlink wasn't beeping and continue luring this individual to the Dark Side. It would stop eventually. He could also simply kill the man … there wasn't much need for the Inquisitorius now and the training program was expensive. Or, he could answer the call.

The last option would have been preposterous a few months ago. Not having his comlink switched off during a duel would have been unthinkable. But his life had changed since then. There was the little matter of his newly rediscovered fatherhood.

He reached down to pick up the comlink and then pointed at the Cerean, who was now thoroughly baffled.

"Don't move."

A holo image of Threepio flickered into life, the channel taking a moment to stabilize through the heavy cloud cover.

"Lord Vader, my humblest apologies for interrupting you."

"What is it, Threepio? Is Luke all right?"

"I'm afraid he seems to have caught a virus! He says he has a sore throat and is tucked up in bed. Artoo and I thought it best if he stayed home from school."

"He's sick?!"

A thousand possible diseases that began with a sore throat ran through his mind, and the normal low-level worry for Luke's safety threatened to spiral into a panic.

"Tell the palace assistants at once," Vader ordered. "I will return immediately. Have him examined by a medical droid as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir. Artoo did scan his vital signs, and he doesn't have a fever. He didn't think it was serious."

"I am not concerned with what Artoo _thinks_. He is not a medical droid. Do as I ask and contact me the minute you have more information."

Vader disconnected the call and turned to find the Force-sensitive fugitive had somehow taken advantage of his distraction and was now in the cockpit of the Inquisitor's ship. A slow, weary breath filled the foggy air. Being a Sith Lord and a father always seemed easier in theory than in practice.

Never mind. His son was the priority now. There would be another opportunity to deal with this irritating problem.

* * *

Luke pulled the blanket tighter when he heard the bedroom doors slide open. The pillow covered his eyes, with a narrow gap left for his mouth and nose. With any luck, it was one of the service droids with the hot chocolate he requested.

"Morning, Luke."

He lifted the pillow slightly, recognizing Lev's gentle voice.

"Oh." He paused to cough. "Hi, Lev."

"I hear you're not feeling too well this morning."

"Yeah." He rolled over, lying with his face down.

"That's no good. There's been a bug going around lately. Two of my team and three royal guards were off sick last week."

Luke nodded into the pillow.

"Have you got a headache? Or just a sore throat?"

"Headache. Sore throat. Sore stomach."

"Have you managed to eat and drink anything?"

Luke nodded into the pillow again. "Droids bringing another drink."

"All right. I'll stop asking questions because it's probably hurting you to talk right now. You just stay put. One of the palace medical droids will be here in a moment."

Luke opened an eye then. "Medical droid? I don't need that. It's just a cold."

"Probably, but then again, it might not be. Best to get it checked out. Ah—here we are."

The room doorcom had buzzed again, and Lev opened the door before Luke could protest. A medical droid entered the room, followed by Artoo and Threepio, who were still debating whether Artoo's senses were fine-tuned enough to detect human body temperature.

"Looks like there's another victim of the Imperial palace virus strain, 21B-77," Lev said.

"Oh, dear," the droid said, coming forward to inspect Luke. "Please, sit up, young man, and I will examine you."

Luke hunched up and pulled the pillow back over. "No, I don't need a medical droid."

"Come on, Luke, it will only take a minute," Lev said, walking around to remove the pillow.

"No!"

Luke burrowed down under the blanket, disappearing into the bed.

"Master Luke!" Threepio said, sounding panicked.

"It's just a cold," Luke said. "Can you all please get out of my room and leave me to rest?!"

His understanding of what was going on in the room was now quite muffled by the blankets, but he did hear Lev ask the medical droid if it could at least do a cursory scan through the blankets. Luke shuffled down until he was right in the middle of the bed, tucked up in a tight ball.

Artoo made a flurry of beeps, and then Luke felt the blankets begin to shift.

"Artoo!"

The attempt to expose him stopped, but the beeping continued.

Luke made a groaning noise and then slipped out the side of the bed, taking a blanket with him. He disappeared into the refresher, making sure he locked the door behind him.

It was a good twenty minutes before the muffled voices from the main room went away, and he felt safe enough to open the doors. By this time, having had to sit hunched up, leaning against the cold refresher wall, he was really starting to feel like he did have a headache. Unfortunately, little had improved about the situation during his absence.

All the droids were still there, along with a fourth droid, who had arrived with his hot chocolate. Artoo was plugged into the wall terminal and appeared to be working on a means of overriding the refresher door lock. The only good thing was Lev had gone.

"Why are you still here?" Luke asked, pointing at the medical droid. "Haven't you heard of patient rights?!"

Before the droid could answer, the door opened again, and Lev returned, accompanied by Commander Julius, a senior security officer. She was carrying some kind of override keycard.

"Oh, there you are," Lev said, relieved. He glanced at Commander Julius. "Sorry. False alarm."

"Are you hosting a meeting of the droid committee, Cupcake?" Commander Julius asked, looking around the room.

"No, I'm trying to get rid of them!"

"Luke, please," Lev said. "It will only take a moment for the medical droid to confirm everything is all right and then you can rest."

"I don't want that droid poking things in my mouth!" Luke insisted. His voice was getting hoarse now, and it made Lev raise a hand a concern.

"Then how about if he just runs a body scan?"

"You're too nice, Lieutenant," Commander Julius said, rolling her eyes. "He's twelve. Take it from a mom … you ask nicely _once_. And once only."

"Since when do I have to do what either of you say?" Luke asked, sliding back into bed.

"Yeah, good point," Commander Julius said, folding her arms. "How about this? We call your father and tell him you're refusing to be examined."

Artoo made a chuckling noise as Luke's eyes widened.

"No, don't," he said quickly. "He said it was one of those top-secret missions."

"But he wanted to be informed of the exam results as soon as they were ready," Lev said. "I'm surprised he hasn't called already, demanding an update."

"You told him about this?!" Luke said, sitting up in shock.

Artoo made a long series of beeps and then nudged Threepio forward. He somehow managed to look sheepish. "Oh, yes, Master Luke, I called your father as soon as we discovered you were sick!"

Luke fell back on the pillow, groaning.

For some reason, the medical droid took this as an opportunity to come to the side of the bed and start scanning him. Then a stethoscope shot out of its torso and attached to his chest, latching on through his sleep shirt. It was tempting to rip it off, but that was only going to extend the time this annoying droid was looming over him. Not to mention the rest of the audience.

Finally, the droid asked if he could please have a look at his throat, and Luke opened his mouth a few centimeters. Apparently, it was enough, because after leaning over him and inserting a scanner, it finally straightened up.

"I cannot detect any sign of serious sickness," he said. "I can not analyze further without taking the patient to the medical center, but for now, I recommend rest and alerting me if the patient experiences worsening symptoms."

Artoo chirped in a positive way and then rolled over to Luke's side, making a questioning beep.

"Rest means I don't want to talk to anyone right now," Luke said, rolling over and pulling up the blanket.

Artoo made a sad noise and Threepio said, "Come along, Artoo. We need to contact Lord Vader to tell him the good news."

Artoo only beeped more in response, and Threepio said, "Very well, but be quiet."

"I'll check up on you later," Lev said. "Threepio, make sure he has a good supply of water."

"Yes, sir."

Luke groaned again, but no one heard him. He could hear them talking about him even as they left.

After a few minutes of thinking uncharitable thoughts about adults and droids, he stood up and dragged his study desk across the floor, using it to block the doorway. For good measure, he stacked up a chair and several cushions on top of it.

* * *

It wasn't until becoming a parent that Vader knew the ridiculous length of time it took to pass through the palace security perimeter became something he had to fix. It was over a minute this time, on just the day he was now nearly desperate to get back to Luke. The boy might have caught some fatal Coruscant disease he had no immunity to. His doctor had said he'd given him all the vaccinations he required, but could he really trust him? He should have done the research and double-checked all his records.

His starfighter came into the hangar so fast, it caused the parked speeders to shake with the engine roar. There wasn't time to dock it properly in the bay, so he simply set it down in the middle of the floor and jumped out of the hatch.

An assistant rushed out of the elevator as he approached, followed closely by Threepio. They both came to a halt, one at attention, and the other with his droid arms raised in a panic.

"Lord Vader," the lieutenant said.

"How is Luke?"

"He's … he's … he seems to be fine, sir."

" _Seems_ to be?"

"I'm afraid we've been unable to examine him for the last hour," Threepio said.

"Why not?!"

"Physically, he appears to be only mildly sick, but I'm afraid he is in a poor mood."

"I do not care about his mood," Vader said, feeling his temper fray. "Why have you not examined him?"

The lieutenant hesitated, something which made Vader want to toss him against the wall, but Threepio spoke up.

"He has blocked his bedroom door with several pieces of furniture, and Artoo is unable to shift it. But he does assure me Luke's condition remains unchanged since this morning."

Vader made a noise of frustration, and then entered the elevator. Before either droid or lieutenant could get any ideas about joining him, he used the Force to close the doors with a bang. This was clearly a situation that required a parent.

A parent. The words eased his anger and replaced it with a feeling of both pride and doubt. He was still new at this. He was still learning. But at times like this, nothing felt more natural than his job as Luke Skywalker's father. He wanted to do everything to ensure his son was as well-cared for as possible. But what if doing that required more than a Sith Lord could provide?

He was still contemplating the matter as he walked down the corridor, already deciding on his next course of action. Luke needed to be examined properly. The cursory information provided by the medical droid had been deeply unsatisfying. Doctor Leeson had already been informed he would bring Luke in as soon as possible, and the medic had assured him he would arrange for the required privacy.

The bedroom doors slid open in response to his finger tapping the release, and he was immediately met by a tower of furniture that left him unable to even see into the room. Raising a hand, he sent it all flying towards the opposite wall, where it tumbled into a heap.

Luke sat up at the noise and stared at him, eyes wide. Artoo made a cheery whistle.

He didn't say anything, merely closed the distance between himself and Luke, and placed his hand on the boy's forehead. It didn't feel overly hot, but it was difficult to get an accurate reading through the glove. Luke immediately shifted away.

"I thought you had a secret mission!" he said.

"I did. Threepio let me know you were sick."

"You didn't need to come back. It's just a cold."

"How do you know?"

Luke turned away and then buried himself in the blankets. "I've been sick before. You should go back to your mission."

"No. I will take you to see your doctor. Get dressed."

This caused a spike of distress from his son. "No, I don't need to."

"You do." Vader opened his closet, looking for some suitable clothing.

"This is normal! I get sick sometimes … I just need to rest and I'll get better."

Too many of these clothes looked overly bright, but he finally found a blue zip jacket that was loose enough to be worn over his pajamas. He tossed it towards Luke and then opened the drawer to find some socks.

"Come on … _please_."

Vader turned around, meeting his son's gaze. "Do you want me to carry you down to the speeder? I will if you are not dressed in two minutes."

They may have only been together a few months, but Luke knew him well enough to know he wasn't bluffing. The boy hastily scrambled for his clothes, and within the allocated time frame, he was pulling on his boots.

Vader guided him to walk in front of him as they went down the corridor, and he noted with relief the boy didn't seem to be having any trouble with his balance. Of the many potential diseases he had considered during the journey back to Coruscant, an undiagnosed concussion had occurred more than once.

Artoo trailed behind them, and he chirped when they arrived at the hangar and found Threepio was hovering around near the elevators. The lieutenant had clearly taken his abrupt departure as a dismissal.

"Oh, Master Luke, you _are_ all right," Threepio said. "We were quite worried."

Luke only sighed at the words. Vader kept a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to the nearest speeder. His son looked longingly at one of the faster open-cockpit models, but he didn't want the cold air blowing in his son's face.

The boy didn't say anything on the journey over. Vader glanced at him a couple of times, noting he was leaning against the window with his arms wrapped around his body. This was far from his usual happy self. Whatever disease had invaded Luke's body, Vader wished he could somehow hunt it down and take his revenge for such an insult.

Perhaps there was something he was supposed to say right now. Something a father would say to reassure his son. His entrance into the bedroom hadn't exactly put his son at ease, but that was as much his own fault as anything else.

"Why did you stack the furniture up against your bedroom door?" Vader inquired, as he dived out of the traffic lane.

Luke shrugged.

"Did the medical droid hurt you?"

"No. I was just tired of everyone fussing over me."

This did make sense. He had no tolerance for such things himself. Halfway through the dive, he recalled Threepio had mentioned Luke having a sore stomach. Perhaps he should fly accordingly. It went against every instinct he had to release the accelerator, but the landing pad was close, and a few more minutes wouldn't cause this disease to progress beyond treatment. At least, that's what his rational mind assured him.

Luke climbed out of the speeder without being prompted once they had landed, and then rubbed his arms, shivering slightly. Vader walked around to place the jacket hood over his head. Perhaps Luke should have worn another layer. It was difficult to judge such things now that he had little sense of the outside temperature himself.

So many things to worry about. What if the doctor saw how Luke was dressed and thought he was being neglected. What if his blood tests again showed that he wasn't eating enough vegetables? He had researched childhood nutrition over the last few weeks, but getting Luke to eat some of the recommended meals had proved a challenge.

When they walked through into the medical center reception, Luke hunched up further, not even looking up when Doctor Leeson came out to greet them.

"Come on through," he said, gesturing towards the nearest examination room. "Please, hop up on the bed, Luke."

Luke did so, but instead of remaining sitting, he rolled over on his side and faced the far wall. The doctor noted this, but then simply picked up his datapad and began making notes.

"So you said Luke complained of a sore throat, a headache, and a stomach ache?"

"Yes. And he has been lethargic and recalcitrant."

"I have not been recal … recall … what does that even mean?" Luke complained, mumbling into his sleeve.

"A droid at the palace examined him, but was unable to locate the problem."

The medical droid who assisted Doctor Leeson was already scanning Luke, and his vital signs appeared on the main monitor. The doctor made a 'hmm' noise as he glanced over them, and then went to retrieve a tongue depressor from the implement tray.

"Sit up now, Luke, and I'll take a look at your throat," he said, patting his arm.

Luke didn't move at first, but when Vader moved over to assist, he did so without needing to be man-handled. The doctor only looked for a moment, and then he went on to check his ears and glands.

"So how's your appetite?" he asked when he came around to listen to Luke's breathing.

"I'm not really hungry," Luke mumbled.

"And did this start yesterday? Or did you wake up like this?"

"Woke up this way."

"How has school been lately?"

Luke's eyes widened at the question. "Fine."

"Teachers all right? No bullying?"

"No, it's fine."

"What does his school environment have to do with his health?" Vader asked.

The doctor gave him a look, not unlike the one Obi-Wan used to give him when he'd apparently missed something obvious.

"Let's have a chat next door."

"Good, does this mean I can nap now?" Luke said, rolling back over.

"Yes, you rest up," Doctor Leeson said. "There's water on the bench at the side if you feel thirsty."

Vader followed the doctor to the adjacent room, trying not to let his mind conjure up worst-case scenarios. Perhaps there was some disease going around Coruscant schools. He should pay more attention to the local news.

"What's wrong with him?" he asked, as soon as the door closed.

"Nothing." He leaned back against the desk, folding his arms. "At least … nothing physical. What you have here is a classic case of school refusal."

It took Vader a moment to absorb this news.

"Are you telling me he is lying about being sick to avoid school?!"

The doctor raised a hand and spoke in a placating tone.

"He may genuinely feel like he's sick. Emotional distress can do that."

"How are you so certain? You only examined him for mere minutes. You have not done a blood test."

"You say he said he had a sore throat. His throat shows no signs of soreness and his sinuses are clear. When I asked how school was, his heart rate spiked and he appeared nervous."

"He tells me he enjoys school."

"Then something must have changed. You'll need to encourage him to talk to you about what the problem really is. Children often fear parents will embarrass them if they let them know about problems at school. But deep down, I'm sure he wants to tell you. He'll respond to some calm reassurance."

Vader turned away, staring blankly at the wall. Emotional problems … calm reassurance. What next? Heart-to-heart father-son talks? This doctor was unhinged.

"No."

"I'm sorry?"

Vader pointed at him. "No. You will do a blood test and examine him further. If you cannot find the source of his sickness, then find a specialist who can. I will not tolerate failure."

"Sir—"

"I am going back to the palace. Contact me when you have something of value to report."

He swept out of the room, sending the admin droid scurrying out of his way.

* * *

Something was wrong. Luke didn't know _how_ he knew, he just knew. The first confirmation of this was when his doctor returned, and there was no familiar moody presence and artificial breathing along with him. He sat up quickly, looking around.

"Where's my father?"

Doctor Leeson released a weary sigh, running his fingers through his greying sandy hair.

"Your father … had to leave. But I suspect he'll be back soon."

"Why did he have to leave?"

"He claimed it was work-related, but I think … let's just say that sometimes parents need a moment."

Luke frowned. "I haven't done anything. I didn't even want to come here … I'm not that sick."

His doctor nodded, and then took a seat, leaning back in his chair.

"Luke … you're a smart young man, so I'm going to be honest with you. I don't think there is anything physically wrong with you at all. I think something in your life has upset you, and you're feeling sick as a result."

Luke opened his mouth to protest and then found his doctor continued talking before he could speak.

"However, that information scared your father so much, he ordered me to keep examining you until I find the physical cause of your symptoms. I don't want to subject you to needless tests. So I think we need to come up with a better solution."

The idea of his father being scared always baffled Luke and this time was no different.

"My father doesn't get scared."

"He does when he feels like you need something that he can't provide. I felt like that when I was a new father too."

"What I need is for everyone to leave me alone so I can stay in my room by myself," Luke said. "Is that too much to ask?"

"Or, here's another idea," his doctor said. "How about you tell your father what happened that made you want to stay home from school?"

"I can't! He'll … he'll think I'm useless and stupid. He'll just make me go back and tell me I'm interfering with his work."

"Are you sure that's what he'll say? Or are you just projecting what you're telling yourself onto him?"

Luke raised an eyebrow. "You've met my father, right?"

The doctor smiled. "Yes, I have. And I think you need to give him more credit. How can he learn to be a better father when you won't give him a chance?"

Luke leaned back on his arms, staring at the clean white ceiling. Maybe … maybe he had a point. His father really had been working on the whole father-son bonding thing lately. He'd spent hours on the weekend teaching him about a TIE fighter engine and it had been amazing. More than amazing.

He'd been so happy then. He'd arrived at school the next day eager to tell his friend Ben all about what he'd learned. Then they'd had gym class and everything had fallen apart. Just the memory of it made him curl up again and roll over on his side.

"Are you all right?" Doctor Leeson asked, sounding worried. He stood up, clearly intending to come over, but then they were both startled by the sound of the door opening.

A Dark Lord of the Sith strode back in, immediately filling the entire room with a sense of anxiety.

"Have you found anything yet?" he inquired, pointing at the doctor.

"Well …" Doctor Leeson looked at Luke with a pleading expression, and Luke sighed, nodding in silent agreement. His doctor smiled in response. "We did make some progress. Luke has something he wants to talk to you about, and I need a cup of strong caf, so please excuse me."

Luke looked up, realizing he was now the subject of his father's gaze. The scrutiny was almost enough to make him renege on the whole agreement, but his doctor had already left the room. At least this raised examination bed put him a little closer to eye level with the mask. Still, he dropped his head, looking down at his lap.

"So … uh … something happened yesterday."

His father didn't reply. He seemed to be clenching his fists under his cape, so Luke spoke faster.

"They've started a swimming unit in my gym class and … I can't swim. They didn't have swimming pools on Tatooine." Luke heard his voice breaking as he forced out the words. "The teacher let me watch from the side as I said I needed to get a swimsuit, but I can't use that excuse forever. Everyone else in the class was twenty times better than I could ever be! The boys are all strong and tall and some of them even have muscles. They're going to laugh when they see my skinny arms."

Luke closed his eyes, waiting for his father to prove him right and say he was being dramatic over nothing. But instead, he sounded confused.

"Is that all?"

Luke glanced up. His father's confusion lasted a few seconds before his fingers clenched into fists again, and Luke cringed in anticipation.

"You made me think you were infected with some deadly disease when you just didn't want to attend a swimming class?!"

Luke raised his hands, his heart racing in his chest. "I'm sorry!"

His father seemed to catch himself then, and he turned away, facing the opposite wall.

Luke reached down to wrap his arms around his stomach, feeling like there was a pile of bricks down there. After faking a headache, he could now feel a real one starting.

A moment later, his father turned back.

"Son, you should have told me this yesterday."

"You were away on your secret mission," Luke said, reaching up to rub a tear from his cheek. He hadn't noticed when he'd started crying, but apparently there was no end to the ways he would embarrass himself today.

"You have my comlink frequency. There is no mission too important to interrupt if there is something you need to talk about."

"There's nothing you can do to help," Luke said.

"There is. I will tell the school to exempt you from swimming classes for now, and arrange for you to have some lessons at the palace."

The bricks in his stomach suddenly vanished.

"Um … really?"

"Yes." His father came closer, and then reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. This had slowly been happening more lately. There was a time when Luke couldn't have imagined his father feeling comfortable enough to touch him like that, and it still felt too good to be true.

"I also had to learn to swim when I left Tatooine. In time, you will enjoy it."

"Are you sure? I see all that deep water and … there's so much of it!"

"It may feel strange at first." His father stepped back and then gestured for him to climb down off the bed. "Come. I think you need to apologize to your doctor."

Luke smiled. "On behalf of you?"

His father gave him a look in response, and Luke raised his hands. "Kidding!"

* * *

It was amazing how much difference one conversation could make. Luke didn't even mind so much when his father made him get dressed in his school uniform and then flew him over to the school for his afternoon classes. Lying around in bed all day was a boring idea anyway.

Lev picked him up afterward, in one of the dull Imperial issue speeders that weren't an uncommon sight on the school landing pad. He smiled when Luke slid into the passenger seat.

"Feeling better?"

He nodded, feeling embarrassed when he remembered the drama of the morning.

"Sorry about everything."

"It's all right. Your father briefed me on the problem, and I've come up with a mission strategy."

"Does it involve ice cream at the mall?"

"Yes, after we go to Sports World and find you a swimsuit."

Lev accelerated into the air, taking advantage of a lull in the steady stream of speeders heading for the school landing bays.

"Then what?" Luke asked, trying to ignore the anxious feeling that threatened to return.

"Then we need to find you a tutor." He smiled. "You know, Hicks used to teach swimming during semester breaks at the academy. Maybe we should ask him."

"No way. He has gills! I don't want anyone teaching me who is going to make me feel useless. I already feel like an Outer Rim desert farmboy freak."

Lev only laughed at this assertion. He seemed to be enjoying having some time out of the palace and didn't hurry him when they made it to the swimming aisle of the biggest sports supplies store at the mall. There was no end of designer brands for all kinds of body shapes, and it didn't take long for him to locate some orange swim shorts that didn't make him feel too self-conscious.

Then Lev gestured to another display. "Now let's find you some goggles. And maybe a kickboard … I remember starting out with a kickboard."

"Some what and what?" Luke said, staring at the display. "Why is this so complicated?"

"It's not complicated," Lev said, picking out a silver swim cap. "Here you go. Unless you want an orange one?"

"Maybe I shouldn't go all orange," Luke said, picking up some blue goggles. "Why do you have to wear these?"

"You want to be able to see underwater. Pool water has chemicals to kill bacteria which can sting your eyes." Lev paused, reaching for something he'd spotted nearby. "Hey now. This would fit in well at the palace."

He held up a pool towel that was covered with red, black, and white Imperial flags.

"There are already lots of towels."

"I know, but it's nice to have something all your own." He lowered the towel, meeting Luke's gaze. "Listen, I know this is … new, but you've had a lot of new things in the last few months and you've adapted. You'll get through this too."

"I know," Luke said, accepting the offered towel. "I … I guess I am excited to give swimming a try. I just never felt so different until I watched all the other boys swimming yesterday. Even Ben, who always says he's useless at all sports, was doing okay."

"When you first try doing something, you're going to be useless. That's just how it is. How good do you think you were at walking and talking when you first tried it? Now look at you."

Luke finally smiled, getting Lev's point. "So I should just … go along with it."

"Yes. We'll find you a good teacher. The best teacher. After a few one on one lessons, you'll be on your way to catching up with all your classmates."

It was a nice idea, and Luke tried to tell himself it would be fine whenever the voice in his head started making him worry. But as was typical of his life, nothing quite worked out as planned.

His father arrived in his room later that evening, appearing much calmer than he had that morning. Fortunately, he'd had time to straighten out all the furniture, and his new swimming gear was laid out neatly on the study desk.

Luke paused the holovid, watching as his father approached the side of the bed.

"You found what you needed?"

He nodded. "Yeah, all set."

"I asked an assistant to find a teacher for you. Your lessons can begin as soon as possible. In the meantime, I must return to my mission."

"Oh … that's fine. Sorry you had to come back."

"Do not apologize, young one. Your needs are important."

The feeling those words inspired made Luke feel better than he had since learning of the whole swimming class. Seen, safe, and … cared for. It was familiar … this was how he'd felt with Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru. He'd never imagined he'd ever feel that way again, but yet … here he was. It was a struggle not to tear up.

His father continued, seemingly oblivious. "I will arrange a time and you will call me and tell me about your day."

Luke smiled. "You don't have to do that. You'll be busy doing … your top-secret mission. Whatever that is."

"I will be keeping the galaxy safe. But that doesn't mean I don't have time for you." He reached out to touch him again, letting his hand rest briefly on his shoulder.

"Goodnight, Son."

"Night, Father. Hope your mission goes well."

His father paused, and then said, "I will return as soon as possible." He then turned and left the room, cape trailing behind him.

* * *

Having an exemption from gym class wasn't as good as Luke first thought. Ben was envious, but really, he'd have preferred to be sitting on the side of the pool, at least. Instead, he was left in a room with a droid to supervise, and various pieces of homework to complete that were difficult to concentrate on.

After two days of this, and no sign of Lev finding any swim tutor, Ben suggested he come over to the palace and they could just play around in the shallow end of the palace lap pool to get him started.

"We'll need to get access from the security office," Ben said. "It's meant for staff use, but I have been in there once or twice with my dad."

Luke nodded. "Sure. We can get some snacks from Lieutenant Hicks' too."

"Not such a good idea," Ben said. "I always feel sick if I try and swim after eating."

"For after then." Luke grinned. "We'll need to celebrate my first time ever in a pool."

It was a sunny afternoon in Imperial City, and they took their time walking back to the palace, pausing every so often to enjoy the sight of speeder traffic above the transparent pedestrian tunnels. They went through the basement staff entrance to the palace, which brought them closest to the security office. As soon as they walked through the door, Lieutenant Hicks glanced up from his desk, and then raised an eyebrow.

"No, I'm not giving you a pass for the south tower. Stop asking."

"It's not that," Luke said, skidding up to the snack bowl behind his monitor. There was a colorful array of small chewy candies on offer today. "I want to get in a pool for the first time. Can you let me and Ben into the palace pool?"

Lieutenant Hicks simply stared at Luke, his solid black eyes unblinking, and then he pressed a button on his comlink. Lev answered a moment later.

"Hey, can you come into the security office?" Lieutenant Hicks said. "The resident twelve-year-old wants access to the pool."

Lev responded by cutting the call, and a moment later, he came rushing through the door, looking a little frazzled. Ben had to jump out of his way.

"Hey," Luke said, sitting down on the chair in front of the desk. "Any luck finding a teacher yet?"

"It's still a work in progress," he said. "I don't know about you getting in by yourself, though."

"Hey, it's just the shallow end, and Ben will be there."

"Health and safety rules state that no one under sixteen is allowed alone in the pool without adult supervision," Lieutenant Hicks said.

"Huh. Well … do droids count as adults?" Luke said, thinking of Artoo and Threepio.

"If you're talking about your unhinged droids, then no."

"My dad might be able to finish his shift early," Ben said. "How about if he takes us?"

"That's acceptable."

"I'll give him a call," Ben said. He smiled at Lev. "Don't worry, Luke will be fine. The shallow end is barely up to my chest."

"I know, but I also know Luke, and I know how he likes to … push the physical limits."

Lieutenant Hicks smirked at him. "You mean dive headfirst into a trash compactor?"

"I did not go in head first," Luke said, rolling his eyes.

Captain Jarnet was only too happy to help Luke have his first swimming pool experience, and an hour later, he stepped out of the changing room, dressed in his new swimsuit and with the towel draped across one shoulder. The familiar scent of chemically treated pool water filled his nose, and he saw Captain Jarnet was already in the pool, just at the end of a warm-up lap. Ben ran to the end and jumped in, causing a big splash of water to wash over his father, followed by some playful wrestling.

"Come on, Luke," Captain Jarnet said, holding Ben away with one arm and beckoning him towards the ladder. "Climb down backward."

This was simple enough. Luke went down a few steps and then jumped back.

"Ah! It's cold!"

Captain Jarnet laughed. "Feels just right to me. You don't want it too warm. Come on. All the way."

Luke finally felt his feet touch the bottom, and then turned around to face the others, with one hand still on the ladder. Captain Jarnet stretched his arms back behind his head and then rolled his shoulders a few times, before ducking under the water. Ben was doing some kind of simple stroke that kept his head mostly above the water, and he swam through the holographic lane boundaries to reach the ladder.

"Well, you're doing okay so far," Ben said, smiling as Luke shivered. "Can you duck your head under? You'll get warmer once you're properly in."

This meant putting the new goggles on, and then he ducked his head under at Ben's encouragement. This only made him feel even colder, and some water leaked in through the left side of the goggles, stinging his eye. How did people actually enjoy this?

"I think I'm ready to get out," Luke suggested, pushing his now soaking wet fringe away from his face.

"No, no. Here, why don't you try this?" Captain Jarnet climbed out of the pool and retrieved the kickboard. "You can start learning how to kick, at least."

Having something to take his mind off the cold did help, and soon, with a few pointers from Ben and his father, he was able to hold onto the kickboard, keep his head above water, and propel himself forward. At first he was kicking from his knees, but Captain Jarnet explained about kicking from the hip.

All the activity did warm him up in time, and he managed to get from one side of the shallow end to the other, crossing the lane dividers every few meters. Lev and Lieutenant Hicks came in a short time later, clearly curious to see how it was going.

"He's doing great," Captain Jarnet said, grinning at them as they came up to the side. "Who would believe this boy was raised in the desert?"

Luke smiled, bringing his feet back to the bottom and lifting up his goggles.

"How does it feel?" Lev said, crouching down at the pool edge to talk to him.

"It's okay. Pretty cold at first, but I'm warmer now." He looked up at Lieutenant Hicks, curious. "So can you swim underwater without even taking a breath?"

"I wish. The gills are just for decoration."

"He can go quite a long time without taking a breath," Lev said. "Always had me beat in the pool."

"Oh, that sounds like a challenge," Captain Jarnet said. "I might have to see this."

"No, I'm really out of shape," Lieutenant Hicks said, patting his middle. "Too much candy."

Luke began to feel cold again as the conversation continued, with Captain Jarnet trying to needle either Lev or Lieutenant Hicks into racing with him. Considering Captain Jarnet had biceps and chest muscles like he could bench press 100kg, Luke couldn't blame them for offering excuses. Finally, he decided to call it a day and go and shower, and no one objected as he climbed up the ladder and returned to dry land.

There was a full range of shower gels and shampoo in the pool changing rooms, and even a centrifugal machine for rinsing and drying off your swimsuit. An attending droid handled all his equipment, and by the time he was zipping up his jacket and combing his hair, everything was returned, completely dry and left to air in a mesh bag. If you had to learn to swim, the Imperial Palace was clearly the place to do it.

He took a few steps towards the door, and then paused, hearing his name mentioned.

"I keep explaining that Luke is a nice boy and will be a good student, but if I hear 'I'll get back to you', one more time, I'm going to see if there's someone we can order to assist."

It was Lev speaking. So that's why there was no swim tutor yet …

"What do you think the problem is?" Captain Jarnet asked, sounding concerned. "Is it mention of Lord Vader?"

"For those that get that far, yes, but for others, just mention of the Imperial Palace is enough for them to bow out."

"Well … I'm happy to try and help, but I didn't teach Ben myself. They're always working on better teaching methods and new styles, and I knew a professional would do a much better job than I could. Maybe you could enroll him in a public class and just not mention Lord Vader."

"I considered it, but a class would require his parent's name and address. They'd be no way around it."

_Just not mention Lord Vader_. Luke stared at the shiny white wall of the changing room, feeling his thoughts begin to spiral. No one wanted to teach him when they heard about his father? Did they just see all the intimidation and horror, and assume he'd be the same? Even after being at school for months, he did still receive the odd terrified looks in the locker hall, especially from younger students.

"I'm supposed to update Lord Vader today, and I have no idea what to say. I can't tell him the local swimming tutors who offer private lessons all refuse to work with his son."

"Just say it's taking a bit longer than expected as the best teachers are in demand, but Luke was in the pool today with Ben and we got off to a great start. There's no hurry for Luke to learn, anyway. They're hardly going to have him fail his gym class."

Luke frowned. No, because the school wouldn't want to anger his father. Why did everything good in his life come with a downside? He was happy to be reunited with his father, even if his job and general personality wasn't exactly what he'd imagined, but why did that mean everyone else had to treat him like he wasn't just a normal kid? Like he wasn't just Luke?

He waited longer, making sure Captain Jarnet and Lev had finished their conversation, before finally making an appearance at poolside. Captain Jarnet had jumped back in, and he was currently standing beside Ben, who was floating on his back. He had one arm under his son, holding him up in the water, and the other was showing him a better technique for his backstroke by guiding his arm around in a circle.

The sight of this caused a wave of jealousy that made him hate himself for feeling that way. Ben's father had just given up half an hour of his time to teach him how to practice kicking, so he should appreciate what he had instead of what he didn't. But it was too much to stay and keep watching, so he turned for the door, leaving them to it.

* * *

Things only grew worse the next day when Lev left a message on his comlink. Ben leaned over his shoulder to watch as Luke set it playing on their lunch table, and a small blue hologram of Lev appeared between a salad and some rice.

_Hi, Luke. Looks like we've found you a swimming tutor! He's coming over this afternoon for your first lesson at 16:00 so come back straight after school so you can be all ready._

"Great," Ben said. "See, you'll be swimming in no time."

But the message hadn't finished. Luke raised an eyebrow as the holographic Lev raised both his hands, palms out.

_Now, I know this isn't going to be exactly what you were expecting, but I should tell you now the tutor is a droid._

Ben just smiled while Luke rubbed his temples.

_I was referred to a company that hires out swimming tutor droids. They used to be water-based battle droids during the Clone Wars, but now they've been reprogrammed and make great teachers._

"What?!" Luke knew Lev couldn't hear him, but it had to be said.

_I know how much you like droids, so please give this one a chance._ _See you later._

The hologram faded, and Ben took another bite of his lunch. "Come on, Luke. That sounds amazing. A former battle droid!"

"It's because no one else wanted to teach me because of my father."

Ben shrugged. "Their loss."

Luke could only wish he had the confidence to brush it off so easily. It was all so irritating. He never used to feel like this. Desperate to be normal. Growing up on Tatooine, he used to fantasize about having a famous pilot father who had just been too busy to visit. Now … now he wished his father wasn't famous at all, and that felt ungrateful.

His father had scheduled their comlink call for tonight, and what he really should be doing was making a list of things to tell him that wouldn't bore him. Another drawback of his father's job … he was probably out there flying his TIE fighter and commanding star destroyers. Hearing about math class and the latest HoloNet show just wouldn't cut it.

* * *

The lightsaber igniting cast a red glow over the wooden floorboards, causing roaches to scurry away from the light. Vader took a step forward, towards the room that must have been a library in the crumbling remains of this once stately country home. This planet had never recovered from several months of bombing during the Clone Wars, and anyone wealthy enough to do so had long since left.

The Cerean had imagined he could hide from him here. He was wrong.

"There is no escape," Vader warned, the mask's voice echoing against the rotting walls. "Surrender now, and you have a chance to live."

There was no response, but his quarry's fear was clear in the Force.

Coming through the remains of the door frame, Vader scanned the shelves. At the side of the room, a bird took flight, squawking loudly in warning. There.

Clearly panicking, the man attempted to push the shelves over, blocking his advance. His feeble power only caused a mild shake.

"You would have succeeded if you embraced your true potential," Vader suggested. "Now you are weak. Hiding. Join me, and you will become strong."

"I won't!"

"Then you will die."

Vader raised a hand, intending to demonstrate the task the Cerean had failed to complete. But just as he gathered the Force, the persistent beeping from his comlink made another poorly timed appearance.

Luke. It must be the time he had arranged for their call. The time he had arranged before he had received the message from the droid bounty hunter to say he'd found his prey once again.

Perhaps he should turn it off and simply call his son back once he had dealt with this situation. Even as he had the thought, the immediate negative reaction was enough for Vader to dismiss it out of hand. Knowing his experience with parenting so far, just the day he decided to delay a call with Luke would be just the day his son had somehow flooded the entire palace. And … he didn't want to give his son any reason to imagine he came second to this mission. He had made mistakes when the boy had first come to live with him, and he still had a lot of work to do to rebuild his trust. That meant answering this call.

His fingers closed around the comlink, and he pressed the button to route it through the helmet. At least then he would have both hands free if the Cerean decided to again delay the inevitable and attempt escape. Another thing he'd learned about parenting during the last few months. Multi-tasking was an essential skill.

"Hi," Luke said, his image appearing on a square in the upper left corner of his vision.

"Son. I am impressed you remembered to call me."

He shrugged. "Artoo reminded me. How's your mission?"

"It is … progressing," Vader said, moving around a shelf.

Luke frowned. "What's that humming noise? Is that your lightsaber?"

Before he could think up a response, Luke spoke again. "Are you fighting someone?!"

"No."

That was true enough. A 'fight' was not something he would have with this opponent.

"Are you _sure_ this is a good time? I can call back …"

"No. Talk. Tell me about your day. I received a report that said you have made some progress on your swimming."

"Progress," Luke said, in a sarcastic tone.

Vader came around the edge of the shelf, keeping his attention on the fraying sofa. The Cerean was crouched behind it.

"You entered a pool for the first time?"

Luke nodded, his expression subdued. "Yesterday. With Ben and his father."

Ben's father. Helping Luke through his first time swimming. Memories flooded his mind, unable to be suppressed. Obi-Wan, gently encouraging ten-year-old Anakin down the steps at the Jedi Temple pool, while he took in all the new sensations of an impossible amount of water completely surrounding him. Smiling and laughing together as he discovered the novelty of jumping and moving easily like gravity had been dialed down. Dunking his head under and then sputtering as it filled his nose and ears.

The memory changed to an improbable fantasy as he saw himself doing the same for Luke. Uninjured, free from the suit, and holding Luke steady with a single arm as he learned how to float on his back. His son, completely trusting him with his safety, just as he had once known he could trust Obi-Wan.

It was difficult to say what the most unrealistic part of that idea was. He was a Sith Lord. More likely to terrify his son than provide reassurance.

He kept his voice neutral as he replied. "How did you find it?"

"Cold and wet." Luke hunched forward. "Today was worse. A droid tutor came over to take me through my first lesson."

"Was the droid acceptable?"

"He barely taught me anything. Just how to blow bubbles underwater and then more kicking practice. Then how to dive down to touch the bottom but I got water up my nose and had to get out as it really hurt." He looked down. "The droid said it would take _months_ until I could swim well, even with daily lessons. Too long."

"So you want to be an expert immediately without having to work hard and practice?" Vader enquired.

"I know I have to work to learn things, but I've got better things to do than spend months on this."

Vader considered asking exactly what those better things were. He suspected the answer related to indulging in mindless entertainment.

"I don't see why I have to learn to swim anyway," Luke mumbled.

"You tell me you want to be a pilot one day," Vader said, approaching the sofa. "Pilots make landings in water and need to know how to swim."

"Really?" Luke looked up, interested now. "Have you ever made a water landing?"

"Many times."

"What was it like?"

"Cold and wet."

Luke smiled then.

Vader extended a hand, raising the sofa into the air and tossing it aside. It knocked over a shelf, causing a cloud of dust to fill the air. In the haze, he saw there was no sign of the Cerean. There was, however, a broken window immediately above. He must have jumped up and escaped when he'd been distracted with the call.

Perhaps this multi-tasking was not such a good idea.

He turned his full attention back to his son.

"Luke, this is what I want you to do. For two weeks, give your quest to learn to swim all your energy. Do all the exercises, no matter how tedious. Practice and then practice again. Push yourself on even if you are not enjoying it. This will build determination and discipline that will serve you well in your journey through life."

"Can't I just … do nothing and hope I figure it out in time?" Luke suggested.

Vader was about to respond harshly, but then his son smirked. "Kidding! Okay, I promise I'll give it a try."

"I look forward to seeing your progress when I return."

"Good luck with your mission."

Vader stared up at the broken window, idly thinking it wasn't luck that would finally allow him to complete this task, but a lack of distractions. Despite his worries, Luke was fine. He had every confidence he would overcome this obstacle. Perhaps it was time to give a little less attention to the parenting side of his life.

"Goodbye, Son."

* * *

AQ-7, the swimming droid, was nice enough, Luke had to admit. But part of him wondered if being taught by a machine built for swimming was even worse than being taught by someone who had gills. Perhaps he should have tried nagging Lieutenant Hicks for a few lessons on the side when he'd visited his desk to pick up his new pool access card.

When he arrived for his second lesson, AQ-7 was already in the water waiting for him, conversing with Threepio and Artoo, who had come down to act as a sort of sideline support team. Today's lesson involved more drills with the kickboard, and then the droid said he wanted him to try kicking without the board.

"Then how do I stay floating?"

"The human body naturally floats when there is air in the lungs," the droid said. "Here, let me show you."

AQ-7 came up beside him, and then guided him into a prone position in the water, with his arms stretched out and holding on to the kickboard.

"Now, take a breath and put your head in the water."

Having his head under really wasn't something he enjoyed, but he could hear his father's words echoing in his head, about giving it his all. He had promised to try.

When his head was under, and he was holding the breath, the droid began to ease the kickboard away from his hands. He managed up until only his fingertips were touching, and then he scrambled to lift his head up and get back to his feet so he could breathe.

"You will float," the droid insisted. "Here. Try again without the kickboard. I'll hold you up until you are comfortable for me to let go."

"No, I can do it with the board!"

"Try letting out your breath slowly while your head is under."

"But what if there's no air left and I sink!"

"I won't let you sink."

The droid was so reassuring it was annoying. He could do this. If he got this part out of the way, maybe he'd even let him move away from the shallow end.

The second time, he started out with his hands much closer to the edge of the board and released it immediately after taking a breath and ducking his head under. But his body sunk down in the water, and there was one horrible moment when he wondered if the droid really would let him hit the bottom. He threshed his arms and scrambled back to his feet, gasping for air.

"You said I wouldn't sink!"

"You need to relax your body. If your muscles are tense, you will not float." The droid reached through the water to touch his stomach muscles with its flipper hands, causing Luke to jump back. "Relax your muscles so the air can reach your diaphragm. You have a wiry build and need to make sure the air reaches your center of mass."

"Are you trying to say I'm just a bag of bones and that's why I sink?!"

The droid tilted its scoop-like head. "Bag of bones? I suppose that is one way to describe the human body."

Luke groaned.

"Perhaps we should source some inflatable armbands for you. You may find them a valuable learning aid."

"Inflatable armbands! Like what kids have?!"

The droid made that odd head-tilt again like it was trying to process confusing input. "Perhaps we should return to the kicking drills for a while."

"No. I'm done for today," Luke said, wading over to the ladder.

When he climbed up to the floor, Threepio was waiting with his towel. Artoo made a concerned whistle.

"Never mind, Master Luke," Threepio said. "You will do better tomorrow."

It was difficult to think of any polite response to Threepio's well-meaning attempt at reassurance, so Luke simply took his towel and walked to the changing rooms. The large lap timing chronometer above the wall let him know he'd only lasted twenty minutes out of the half-hour lesson.

_You promised_ , a voice in his head reminded him. _You promised your father you'd try_. _You don't want him to see you floundering around in the water like a baby._

_I'll find a way to get better_ , he argued back. _I'll figure something out before he gets back._

What that something was, he didn't know yet. But he did know it wasn't going to involve that droid.

* * *

Lev wasn't working the following day, as another lieutenant took over the weekend shift in his office, but Luke still woke to find he'd left him a message.

_"Hi, Luke. I'm sorry, I've been busy and haven't had a chance to ask you how it's been working out with the droid. Do you feel you're making progress? Let me know. A couple of alternative options have now replied so let's talk about it when I'm back in the office next week. I was wondering how you might feel about trying a small group class with other people around your age who have migrated here from dry worlds?"_

Luke switched off the message and shut the comlink in his bedside drawer. Next week … he couldn't wait that long. His father could be home any day now. It was time to take matters into his own hands. Retrieving a datapad and bringing up a HoloNet search tool was the easy part. Figuring out exactly what to search for was something else. It took several tries before he found something promising. A complete instructional holovid.

_How to learn to swim in one day … radical method! Not for wimps!_

"Perfect," Luke mumbled to himself.

* * *

The hyperspace tunnel dissolved around Vader's TIE fighter as he entered the region of the Setlun asteroid belt, a vast collection of rocks that had long since been stripped of any valuable minerals. His prey had been tracked here, leaking radiation from his salvaged ship across half the system. The only civilization was an isolated repair and refueling station, located on an unusually large asteroid at the edge of the system.

Within moments, the radar lit up as the scopes detected the presence of the Cerean's ship. It was docked at the station.

Perhaps if he'd been fully focused on his mission he'd have accelerated quickly and disabled the ship before its owner could return to it. Instead, the Force began to swirl around him, demanding his attention.

In a situation such as this, a warning from the Force would normally indicate his enemy had set some poorly conceived trap in a bid to defeat him. Usually based on the assumption that he was a merely skilled pilot, instead of a Dark Lord of the Sith. But, as seemed to be a theme in his life this week, this notification from the ever-present galaxy-binding energy field did not concern his mission. It was entirely focused on his son.

The exact nature of this latest parenting crisis wasn't clear. All he could sense was Luke and some future elusive danger. But it wasn't urgent. Merely possibilities.

Before him, the Cerean's ship accelerated away from the repair station, a cable still trailing out the side. If he made it to hyperspace, it would only delay this mission even further. The Emperor was already suspicious as to what was taking so long. But instead, the ship turned back towards the asteroid field.

Foolish. Perhaps he imagined asteroids were something of concern to him. The modified TIE fighter easily overtook the ship, and he looped around a smaller asteroid, switching the weapon's system to ion cannons.

A single shot was all it took. The blue energy crackled over the enemy ship's hull, disabling all the electronics.

Then, it exploded.

This wasn't right. There was no sense of death in the Force. No surge in the Dark Side that normally accompanied yet another death at his hands. A decoy.

The hail light began to flash. Vader watched it for a moment, and then brought his hand down with more force than was required.

"I _will_ find you," he warned.

"I know."

The man sounded truly resigned.

"Then stop wasting my time." He stretched out with the Force, trying to sense the Cerean's location. There was an irritating lack of fear for the Dark Side to latch on to.

"I have a proposal for you."

"Then speak quickly," Vader said, flying around a larger asteroid. There was nothing on the radar, but the field was full of interference.

"I have noticed we have something in common. You see … I am a father too."

Just the sound of the word father caused the warning from the Force to grow more persistent. _Luke_.

"I would very much like to see my children again. It's been months."

"Then I suggest you stop trying my patience," Vader said, flying further into a dense cluster of asteroids. He still suspected a trap.

"I can hardly believe this is true, but … I think you, Lord Vader, would rather be with your child than here in this asteroid field with me."

The vision filled his mind then. _Luke, in water. Underwater_. He needed to leave _now_.

"So, here is my proposal. Scan the remains of my ship. You will find traces of my DNA. Enough to provide evidence of my death."

Vader turned the TIE fighter around, doing as suggested. The Cerean spoke the truth.

"Take it back to your Empire," he continued. "If you say I am dead, then it will be so. You will never hear from me again. I only want to live a quiet life with my family."

"There is no mercy from a Sith Lord," Vader snapped.

"Then how about from one father to another?"

What foolishness. There was no mercy. There was only the Dark Side.

"Otherwise, it might take you hours to find me in here. Even _days_ … I may not be strong with the Force, but I know how to hide."

The Force only whispered again. _Luke …_

There was no mercy. But there was someone on Coruscant who needed his father.

The Dark Side would demand a heavy penalty for this. He would make it up later.

Vader turned the TIE fighter towards the stars and accelerated into hyperspace.

* * *

After all these months living at the palace, Luke had all the staff schedules and guard changes memorized. The best time to sneak down to the pool would be at 19-hundred when the evening shift guards changed who was on dinner break and the admin staff would have gone home. No one would notice him slipping through the palace with his swimsuit in a discrete bag. He had become part of the scenery around here.

It was good he had this set time where he had to make his move because he might have chickened out otherwise. After all, his plan wasn't easy and it was going to take all the bravery he had to actually do it. Especially once he was standing on one of the starting boards, staring down at the deep end of the pool.

Because what he'd seen on the HoloNet had confirmed all his fears. This slow and steady method of learning to swim was meant for kids. Not determined people in a hurry. The only thing stopping him from swimming right now was his mind. He needed to overcome all his anxiety about deep water and simply jump in and do it. No kickboards. No armbands.

After all, there was a reason why 'being thrown in the deep end' was a thing people said.

As he suspected, the guards were distracted with their changeover and barely acknowledged him as he made his way down to the pool. Probably thought he was having an evening lesson today. He did feel a twinge of guilt as he went through the doors, remembering Lieutenant Hicks reminders about needing a supervisor in the pool when he'd given him this access. At the time, he'd ridiculed him for even imagining he would get in the pool alone. What a difference a few days made.

He spent longer than he meant to getting ready in the changing room. He wasn't stalling. This was just important, that's all, and he needed to make sure he had his goggles attached to his head properly. Some warm up stretches didn't hurt either.

Then, when he was ready as he would ever be, he made the journey down to the end of the pool he'd never been before. The Deep End.

There was a diagram on the wall showing how deep the water was in relation to several average heights. He ignored it. Deep water was nothing to be afraid of. As his father said, pilots had to land in deep water sometimes. As long as he kicked and moved his arms, just like he'd practiced on his bed all afternoon, he would be fine. He'd be a swimmer. His father would be impressed with his progress. That stupid droid would blow a circuit because he'd defied all its programming.

He stepped up on the middle starting block, seeing the still water spread out below him. Fear? Anxiety? Who had time for that? Not his father. Not him.

Time to dive in.

* * *

The Force visions had waned during the short hyperspace journey back to Coruscant. It seemed entirely likely he would arrive to find Luke merely in his bedroom watching holovid, and when he flew the TIE fighter in to land in the hangar, there was no sense at all of Luke being in danger. Perhaps this was merely a side effect of their growing bond as the weeks went by. Luke's idle thoughts were starting to arouse his concern, lightyears away. Perhaps he would need to learn to filter them out.

Artoo chirped in greeting when he disembarked from his ship. Threepio was nowhere to be seen.

"Artoo. Where is Luke?"

_He said he was tired and going to sleep early_ , Artoo beeped out. _He asked me to run Threepio through a full maintenance cycle._

Two things happened then. One, Vader had the strong suspicion that was the type of thing his son would say if he wanted to get the droids out of his way because he was planning to do something he knew they wouldn't approve of. Two, the warning from the Force came back with a vengeance. This time, it wasn't the future he was seeing.

_Luke, sinking under the water._

If he'd stopped to think for a second perhaps he might have called the guards near the palace pool. But that insight didn't come until later. There was no thinking in response to that dire vision. Only action.

No time for elevators. He ran for the hangar ship exit and jumped out of the palace, falling down the outer wall until he reached a window on the right level. The transparisteel exploded inward at his touch and Vader sprinted down the hallway, instinct leading him to the correct room.

Bursting through the doors, the sight of his son, struggling desperately to keep his head above water in the deep end, only quickened his pace. If he'd again taken a second to think, he might have simply gathered the Force and lifted the boy out of danger. Instead, he skidded up to the edge and jumped straight in beside him.

Relief flooded his body as he grabbed Luke in both arms, holding him steady against the rocking water. Not only his relief but Luke's as well. His son's fingers dug into both his arms, the right one squeezing against the joint between flesh and machinery. His breath came in desperate gasps, even louder than his own. Then his son's eyes ran over the respirator controls, growing wide at the sight.

"No … short out!" he gasped. "Get out!"

It took Vader a second to understand the cause of this panic.

"It's watertight," he explained, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Really?!"

"It would not do for a Dark Lord of the Sith to be defeated by a bucket of water," he suggested.

Luke laughed hysterically at the lame joke, and then tears filled his eyes. Vader gripped him tighter.

"What are you doing in the deep end without any supervision?"

"Trying … to … learn," he choked out, voice coming in broken gasps.

Of all the stupid behavior … this boy was going to be the death of him. "So you jumped in the deep end?!"

"The HoloNet … said it … would work."

"The HoloNet!"

"Don't … be … angry," Luke sniffed.

"You want me to be calm about you endangering your life through impatience and reckless behavior?!"

Luke's tears increased at the words, and he choked out, "I was just … sick of being useless and … afraid."

Vader concentrated on allowing the respirator to slow his breathing, trying to calm down. This boy … this son who was so painfully like him in ways that he really wished he wasn't … he didn't need his anger right now. He needed a parent. And for all his vast and terrible flaws, he was all Luke had.

"Well, young one. I believe you only succeeded in making both of us afraid."

Luke sniffed, looked down.

"But seeing as I am here … perhaps we should see if I can teach you."

Luke smiled at that, shaking his head. "I'm a lost cause in the water. I can't even float."

Vader shifted Luke in his grip, pulling his son towards him, side-on, and then scooped his other arm around under his legs. He soon had him lying flat on the top of the water.

"Now, let go of me and put your hands over your stomach," Vader said.

Luke looked up at him, anxiety clear in his expression.

"I won't let you go," Vader assured him.

A feeling of trust flowed over their bond, and then Luke did as asked, placing his hands over his midsection, elbows bent out at the side.

"Now, breathe so you can feel your hands rise. Deep and slow."

Whether on purpose or subconsciously, Luke timed his breaths with the respirator, and Vader felt his son's body grow calmer. He assisted this process, sending a sense of relaxation back.

"Relax your muscles. Imagine yourself becoming lighter."

There was now no weight at all on his arms.

"Good. I am going to release you gradually. I will hold you again if you sink."

"Okay," Luke said, quietly. He didn't sound ready but there was still that sense of trust that overwhelmed all the uncomfortable sensations of being submerged up to his chest.

He kept both arms underneath his son for a moment longer, and then let one fall away, and then the other. His son bobbed up and down slightly, but his face remained above the waterline. Luke smiled, eyes moving to meet his gaze.

"I'm doing it!"

"You are," Vader agreed.

"I'm really doing it! What now?"

Vader was about to respond, when his son began to kick, causing water to lap against his armor. This propelled Luke backward for a meter, but he lifted his head too high and his feet began to sink. Vader waded over to grab him again, as the water was still well over his head.

"Now you need to go back to the shallow end," Vader said. "Until your skills have advanced. Which will take practice and _patience_." He adjusted his hold on Luke so his son could grip his hand and be towed back to safety. He seemed to enjoy this, using him as a floatation aid. Once the water was now below his height, Vader moved to release him, but Luke didn't let go.

"Wait. Can you help me float on my front? That's where I got stuck yesterday."

Vader obliged, moving to hold Luke under his chest with his left arm.

"Put your arms straight in front of you and take a deep breath."

It took two tries for Luke to relax his muscles enough, and then Vader lowered his arm, letting Luke remain, gently moving up and down on top of the water. Then they were both startled by the sound of a security alarm, and Luke scrambled to grab his arm again, even though he was now able to stand on the bottom.

"What's that?!"

"I believe they have discovered the broken window."

"You broke a palace window?!"

Vader stared at Luke. "Such things tend to happen when I am forced to stage a dramatic rescue mere seconds after landing in the hangar."

His tone caused Luke to bow his head in remorse. "Sorry."

"You clearly have too much of me in you."

That made Luke smile. "Uncle Owen used to say that too." He shivered then, and Vader placed a hand on his back, guiding him forward.

"Come on. I need to go and advise the guards there is no enemy currently stalking the halls."

Luke scrambled up the pool ladder, and Vader followed behind, dripping water from every fiber of clothing. His son raised his hand. "Let me get you a towel. Lots of towels. There are some in the changing rooms."

"No need."

Vader tilted his head back, reaching for the Force. The millions of water molecules clinging to his cape responded easily to the command, and he sent them all sliding along the floor and back into the pool. He was still damp, but no longer dripping.

"Wow! Neat trick!" Luke said, staring in amazement. "Can you do the same for me?"

He was shivering even more now.

"Go and have a warm shower and dry off properly," Vader said, gesturing from Luke to the showers. "I will ask the droids to bring down your pajamas and a robe."

Luke nodded, and Vader strode off towards the corridor, already planning his explanation. Not that the guards ever required one when it came to the part-time resident Sith Lord. Or his son.

* * *

For all the stress and disruption of the last week, Vader felt a sense of accomplishment as he saw Luke safely tucked up in bed for the night. Despite his master's dire predictions, he was getting better every day at managing this entire parenting venture. The incident with Luke being supposedly sick had seemed like an overwhelming challenge at first, but all it required was some calm thought and rational action. On the other hand, Luke throwing himself into the deep end of the pool had required no thought and irrational, hasty action. Either way, it worked.

It was just as he'd told his son. Time, patience, and practice. Something he needed to remind himself of during the next parenting crisis, which would happen sooner or later. They always did.

In any case, with the issue of the Cerean resolved, it seemed he would have at least a few days on Coruscant to keep an eye on his son and ensure he behaved rationally. Perhaps they could spend more time in the hanger together, something they both enjoyed.

His son was enthusiastic about the idea when he scheduled a TIE fighter maintenance session, on the condition Luke continued to work hard at his swimming lessons with the droid tutor. After he fulfilled his end of the bargain for three days, Vader made his way down to the hangar at the allocated time, already making a mental list of the tasks he could assign Luke, and those which would require a more experienced engineer to perform safely.

The boy's excitement caused his Force presence to hum with energy as he ran out of the elevator, skidding up beside Vader as he loosened the first bolt on the weapon's array maintenance hatch.

"Don't start without me!" he insisted.

Vader studied him, noticing he was still dressed in his school uniform and appeared to have rushed home.

"Go and change first."

"Okay, okay." He sounded short of breath, and sat down on a crate of spare parts, tossing his bag to one side. "I'll go soon."

Artoo rolled up beside him, whistling out a greeting. Luke placed a hand on the droid's dome.

"How was school?" Vader inquired, removing the second bolt.

"Good. Guess what? The swimming unit is nearly over so I'll be able to go back to gym class."

Vader turned to stare at his son, hearing a concerning rasp in his voice. The boy appeared flushed and there were dark circles under his eyes.

"And the next unit is martial arts!" he continued. "I can't wait." He coughed on the last word and put his face in his arm to clear his throat.

"Are you sick?" Vader demanded.

"No! I'm fine!"

His voice rasped again, and he reached up to rub his throat. "Just need to drink some water."

Vader walked over and put his hand on his son's head. Warm. Too warm. Artoo rolled up, running a scan, and then offered his own conclusion.

_He has a slight fever. Probably a cold._

"You _are_ sick. Go to your room and I will summon a palace medical droid to examine you."

"I'm not!"

He was coughing even as he tried to deny it.

It seemed the latest parenting crisis had arrived sooner.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the other Star Wars writers on discord who encouraged me with this one.  
> Thanks for reading, all, and hope you enjoyed : ) Take care xx
> 
> -Kitt


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